UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
AT  LOS  ANGELES 

BROWSING  ROOM 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


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EDINBURGH    EDITION 


THE    WORKS    OF 
THOMAS      CARLYLE 

IN     THIRTY     VOLUMES 


VOL.    Ill 

THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION 
II 


THOMAS    CARLYLE 


THE 


FRENCH   REVOLUTION 


A    HISTORY 


6  dyu»   fim,  Oelov  *yip   tpyof   trip  (iaffi- 
Xclat,  brlp  I\tv6epias,  fnrlp  fttpolas,  inrlp  dra/xxjias. 

ARRIANUS 

A&yfjM  yap  avrwv  rit  /irra/3d\Xf  ( ;  x  WP'S  ^  ^07- 
IMTdiv  fierapoXip,  ri  dXXo  ^  dovXc/a  ffrev6vr<av  nai 
TTfiOtffOa*  rpoffiroiov/j^vwv  •  ANTONIN US 


IN   THREE   VOLUMES 
II 

THE  CONSTITUTION 


CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S   SONS 
153-157    FIFTH    AVENUE 


1903 


3Rcmetn  fe$'  \<fy  gejftttjt,  iinb  QJlauern  felj'  i$  etridjjtet, 
•§ter  Oefangene,  bort  ouc^  bet  ©efangenen  »tel. 

3)1  weHeid^t  nut  bie  SBett  etn  gtoget  Jtetler  ?    llnb  ftet  ifl 
SBtfyl  bet  Sotte,  bet  fify  -Retttn  ju  Jfctfnjen  etftejl  ? 

Ooct^e. 


Li  bray 
PI? 


|  1103 

V.3 

5» 

c4 
'A 

CONTENTS    OF    VOLUME    II 

BOOK  I.     THE  FKAST  OF  PIKES 

CHAP.  >A« 

1.    IN   THE    TuiLERIES          .......  1 

II.  IN  THE  SALLE  DE  MENEGE  ......  5 

III.  THE  MUSTER      ........  18 

IV.  JOURNALISM         ........  25 

V.  CLUBBISM    .........  SO 

VI.  JE  LE  JURE         .         .......  34 

VII.  PRODIGIES   .........  38 

VIII.  SOLEMN  LEAGUE  AND  COVENANT          ....  41 

IX.  SYMBOLIC    .........  47 

X    MANKIND    .....         ....  49 

XI.  As  IN  THE  AGE  OF  GOLD  ......  55 

XII.  SOUND  AND  SMOKK     .......  6l 

BOOK  II.     NANCI 

I.  BOUIM.E     .........  70 

II.  ARREARS  AND  ARISTOCRATS          .        ,         .        ,        .  72 

III.  BOUILLE  AT  METZ       .                         .        ...  79 

IV.  ARREARS  AT  NANCI     .......  83 

V.  INSPECTOR  MALSEIGNE          ......  88 

VI.  BOUILLE  AT  NANCI      ......        .9* 


1899SO 


vi 


THE    FRENCH    REVOLUTION 


BOOK  HI.     THE  TUILEEIKS 

CHAP.  VAOK 

I.  EPIMENIDES 102 

II.  THE  WAKEFUL    .         .         .        .        .        .         .        .107 

III.  SWORD  IN  HAND .     113 

IV.  To    FLY    OR    NOT   TO    FLY 119 

V.  THE  DAY  OF  PONIARDS       .  •      r.      .         .        .        .128 

VI.  MIRABEAU  .         .         .        .        .        •        .        •        •     135 
VII.  DEATH  OF  MIRABEAU  .        .        .         .        .         .139 

BOOK  IV.     VARENNES 

I.  EASTER  AT  SAINT-CLOUD     .         .         .         ,.        ,        ,149 
II.  EASTER  AT  PARIS «     153 

III.  COUNT  FERSEN 156 

IV.  ATTITUDE 164 

V.  THE  NEW  BERLINS ,        .168 

VI.  OLD-DRAGOON  DROUET 172 

VII.  THE  NIGHT  OF  SPURS         .        .        .        .        .        .176 

VIII.  THE  RETURN 185 

IX.  SHARP  SHOT 188 

BOOK  V.     PARLIAMENT  FIRST 

I.  GRANDE  ACCEPTATION          .        .        .         .        .         .195 

II.  THE  BOOK  OF  THE  LAW      ......     203 

III.  AVIGNON %        .        ,.211 

IV.  No  SUGAR 219 

V.  KINGS  AND  EMIGRANTS        .•%..«.     223 

VI.  BRIGANDS  AND  JALES  .         .         ,         .,        .        ,         .     234 

VII.  CONSTITUTION  WILL  NOT  MARCH  .  237 


CONTENTS  vii 

OHAJ».  PA01 

VIII.  THE  JACOBINS      ........  242 

IX.  MINISTER  ROLAND 247 

X.  PETION-NATIONAL-PIQUE 251 

XI.  THE  HEREDITARY  REPRESENTATIVE      .        .        .         .  253 

XII.  PROCESSION  OF  THE  BLACK  BREECHES  ....  257 

BOOK  VI.     THE  MARSEILLESE 

I.  EXECUTIVE  THAT  DOES  NOT  ACT 264 

II.  LET  us  MARCH 271 

III.  SOME  CONSOLATION  TO  MANKIND          ....  274 

IV.  SUBTERRANEAN 279 

V.  AT  DINNER 282 

VI.  THE  STEEPLES  AT  MIDNIGHT 286 

VII.  THE  Swiss .295 

VIII.  CONSTITUTION  BURST  IN  PIECES   ....  302 


LIST    OF    PLATES 

MARIE  ANTOINETTE frontispiece 

NECKER    ....  ....  at  page  96 

MADAME  ROLAND „    247 


THE    CONSTITUTION 

BOOK   FIRST 
THE    FEAST    OF    PIKEb 


CHAPTER    I 

IN    THE    TUILERIES 

THE  victim  having  once  got  his  stroke-of-grace,  the  cata- 
strophe can  be  considered  as  almost  come.  There  is  small 
interest  now  in  watching  his  long  low  moans :  notable  only 
are  his  sharper  agonies,  what  convulsive  struggles  he  may  make 
to  cast  the  torture  off  from  him ;  and  then  finally  the  last 
departure  of  life  itself,  and  how  he  lies  extinct  and  ended, 
either  wrapt  like  Caesar  in  decorous  mantle-folds,  or  unseemly 
sunk  together,  like  one  that  had  not  the  force  even  to  die. 

Was  French  Royalty,  when  wrenched  forth  from  its  tapes- 
tries in  that  fashion,  on  that  Sixth  of  October  1789,  such  a 
victim  ?  Universal  France,  and  Royal  Proclamation  to  all 
the  Provinces,  answers  anxiously,  No.  Nevertheless  one  may 
fear  the  worst.  Royalty  was  beforehand  so  decrepit,  mori- 
bund, there  is  little  life  in  it  to  heal  an  injury.  How  much 
of  its  strength,  which  was  of  the  imagination  merely,  has  fled  ; 
Rascality  having  looked  plainly  in  the  King's  face,  and  not 
died  !  When  the  assembled  crows  can  pluck  up  their  scare- 
crow, and  say  to  it,  Here  shalt  thou  stand  and  not  there  ;  and 
can  treat  with  it,  and  make  it,  from  an  infinite,  a  quite  finite 

VOL.  n.  A 


«  THE    FEAST    OF    PIKES       [BK.  i.  CH.  I. 

Constitutional  scarecrow, — what  is  to  be  looked  for  ?  Not  in 
the  finite  Constitutional  scarecrow,  but  in  what  still  unmea- 
sured, infinite-seeming  force  may  rally  round  it,  is  there  thence- 
forth any  hope.  For  it  is  most  true  that  all  available  Authority 
is  mystic  in  its  conditions,  and  comes  *  by  the  grace  of  God."1 

Cheerfuller  than  watching  the  death-struggles  of  Royalism 
will  it  be  to  watch  the  growth  and  gambollings  of  Sansculot- 
tism ;  for,  in  human  things,  especially  in  human  society,  all 
death  is  but  a  death-birth :  thus  if  the  sceptre  is  departing 
from  Louis,  it  is  only  that,  in  other  forms,  other  sceptres, 
were  it  even  pike-sceptres,  may  bear  sway.  In  a  prurient 
element,  rich  with  nutritive  influences,  we  shall  find  that  Sans- 
culottism  grows  lustily,  and  even  frisks  in  not  ungraceful 
sport :  as  indeed  most  young  creatures  are  sportful ;  nay,  may 
it  not  be  noted  further,  that  as  the  grown  cat,  and  cat  species 
generally,  is  the  cruelest  thing  known,  so  the  merriest  is  pre- 
cisely the  kitten,  or  growing  cat  ? 

But  fancy  the  Royal  Family  risen  from  its  truckle-beds  on 
the  morrow  of  that  mad  day :  fancy  the  Municipal  inquiry, 
*  How  would  your  Majesty  please  to  lodge  ? 1 — and  then  that 
the  King's  rough  answer,  *  Each  may  lodge  as  he  can,  I  am 
well  enough,'  is  congeed  and  bowed  away,  in  expressive  grins, 
by  the  Townhall  Functionaries,  with  obsequious  upholsterers 
at  their  back ;  and  how  the  Chateau  of  the  Tuileries  is  re- 
painted, regarnished  into  a  golden  Royal  Residence ;  and 
Lafayette  with  his  blue  National  Guards  lies  encompassing  it, 
as  blue  Neptune  (in  the  language  of  poets)  does  an  island, 
wooingly.  Thither  may  the  wrecks  of  rehabilitated  Loyalty 
gather,  if  it  will  become  Constitutional ;  for  Constitutionalism 
thinks  no  evil ;  Sansculottism  itself  rejoices  in  the  King's 
countenance.  The  rubbish  of  a  Menadic  Insurrection,  as  in 
this  ever-kindly  world  all  rubbish  can  and  must  be,  is  swept 
aside;  and  so  again,  on  clear  arena,  under  new  conditions, 
with  something  even  of  a  new  stateliness,  we  begin  a  new 
course  of  action. 


OCT.  1789]        IN    THE    TUILERIES  3 

Arthur  Young  has  witnessed  the  strangest  scene :  Majesty 
walking  unattended  in  the  Tuileries  Gardens ;  and  miscel- 
laneous tricolor  crowds,  who  cheer  it,  and  reverently  make  way 
for  it :  the  very  Queen  commands  at  lowest  respectful  silence, 
regretful  avoidance.1  Simple  ducks,  in  those  royal  waters, 
quackle  for  crumbs  from  young  royal  fingers :  the  little 
Dauphin  has  a  little  railed  garden,  where  he  is  seen  delving, 
with  ruddy  cheeks  and  flaxen  curled  hair ;  also  a  little  hutch 
to  put  his  tools  in,  and  screen  himself  against  showers.  What 
peaceable  simplicity !  Is  it  peace  of  a  Father  restored  to  his 
children  ?  Or  of  a  Taskmaster  who  has  lost  his  whip  ? 
Lafayette  and  the  Municipality  and  universal  Constitutionalism 
assert  the  former,  and  do  what  is  in  them  to  realise  it.  Such 
Patriotism  as  snarls  dangerously  and  shows  teeth,  Patrollotism 
shall  suppress ;  or  far  better,  Royalty  shall  soothe  down  the 
angry  hair  of  it,  by  gentle  pattings ;  and,  most  effectual  of 
all,  by  fuller  diet.  Yes,  not  only  shall  Paris  be  fed,  but  the 
King^s  hand  be  seen  in  that  work.  The  household  goods  of 
the  Poor  shall,  up  to  a  certain  amount,  by  royal  bounty,  be 
disengaged  from  pawn,  and  that  insatiable  Mont  de  Plete  shall 
disgorge ;  rides  in  the  city  with  their  Vive-le-Roi  need  not 
fail :  and  so,  by  substance  and  show,  shall  Royalty,  if  man's 
art  can  popularise  it,  be  popularised.* 

Or,  alas,  is  it  neither  restored  Father  nor  diswhipped  Task- 
master that  walks  there ;  but  an  anomalous  complex  of  both 
these,  and  of  innumerable  other  heterogeneities :  reducible  to 
no  rubric,  if  not  to  this  newly-devised  one :  King  Louis 
Restorer  of  French  Liberty  ?  Man  indeed,  and  King  Louis 
like  other  men,  lives  in  this  world  to  make  rule  out  of  the 
ruleless ;  by  his  living  energy,  he  shall  force  the  absurd  itself 
to  become  less  absurd.  But  then  if  there  be  no  living  energy ; 
living  passivity  only?  King  Serpent,  hurled  into  its  unex- 
pected watery  dominion,  did  at  least  bite,  and  assert  credibly 
that  he  was  there :  but  as  for  the  poor  King  Log,  tumbled 
hither  and  thither  as  thousand-fold  chance  and  other  will  than 
1  Arthur  Young's  Travels,  I  264-280.  •  Dtux  Amis,  iii.  c.  IO. 


4  THE    FEAST    OF   PIKES       [BK.  I.  CH.  I. 

his  might  direct,  how  happy  for  him  that  he  was  indeed 
wooden ;  and,  doing  nothing,  could  also  see  and  suffer 
nothing  !  It  is  a  distracted  business. 

For  his  French  Majesty,  meanwhile,  one  of  the  worst  things 
is,  that  he  can  get  no  hunting.  Alas,  no  hunting  henceforth  ; 
only  a  fatal  being-hunted  !  Scarcely,  in  the  next  June  weeks, 
shall  he  taste  again  the  joys  of  the  game-destroyer ;  in  next 
June,  and  never  more.  He  sends  for  his  smith-tools ;  gives, 
in  the  course  of  the  day,  official  or  ceremonial  business  being 
ended,  a  *  few  strokes  of  the  file,  quelques  coups  de  lime.''1  Inno- 
cent brother  mortal,  why  wert  thou  not  an  obscure  substantial 
maker  of  locks ;  but  doomed  in  that  other  far-seen  craft,  to  be 
a  maker  only  of  world-follies,  unrealities ;  things  self-destruc- 
tive, which  no  mortal  hammering  could  rivet  into  coherence ! 

Poor  Louis  is  not  without  insight,  nor  even  without  the 
elements  of  will ;  some  sharpness  of  temper,  spurting  at  times 
from  a  stagnating  character.  If  harmless  inertness  could  save 
him,  it  were  well ;  but  he  will  slumber  and  painfully  dream, 
and  to  do  aught  is  not  given  him.  Royalist  Antiquarians 
still  show  the  rooms  where  Majesty  and  suite,  in  these  extra- 
ordinary circumstances,  had  their  lodging.  Here  sat  the 
Queen ;  reading, — for  she  had  her  library  brought  hither, 
though  the  King  refused  his ;  taking  vehement  counsel  of  the 
vehement  uncounselled ;  sorrowing  over  altered  times ;  yet 
with  sure  hope  of  better :  in  her  young  rosy  Boy  has  she  not 
the  living  emblem  of  hope  ?  It  is  a  murky,  working  sky ;  yet 
with  golden  gleams — of  dawn,  or  of  deeper  meteoric  night  ? 
Here  again  this  chamber,  on  the  other  side  of  the  main 
entrance,  was  the  King's :  here  his  Majesty  breakfasted,  and 
did  official  work ;  here  daily  after  breakfast  he  received  the 
Queen ;  sometimes  in  pathetic  friendliness ;  sometimes  in 
human  sulkiness,  for  flesh  is  weak ;  and  when  questioned 
about  business,  would  answer :  *  Madame,  your  business  is 
with  the  children.'  Nay,  Sire,  were  it  not  better  you,  your 

1  Le  Chdteau  des  Tuilertes,  ou  ricit  etc.,  par  Roussel  (in  Hist.  Par!,  iv.  I9J» 
219). 


OCT.-NOV.  1789]     IN   THE    SALLE    DE    MANAGE       5 

Majesty's  self,  took  the  children  ?  So  asks  impartial  History  ; 
scornful  that  the  thicker  vessel  was  not  also  the  stronger  ;  pity- 
struck  for  the  porcelain-clay  of  humanity  rather  than  for  the 
tile-clay, — though  indeed  both  were  broken  ! 

So,  however,  in  this  Medicean  Tuileries,  shall  the  French 
King  and  Queen  now  sit  for  one-and-forty  months ;  and  see  a 
wild-fermenting  France  work  out  its  own  destiny,  and  theirs. 
Months  bleak,  ungenial,  of  rapid  vicissitude ;  yet  with  a  mild 
pale  splendour,  here  and  there :  as  of  an  April  that  were 
leading  to  leafiest  Summer ;  as  of  an  October  that  led  only  to 
everlasting  Frost.  Medicean  Tuileries,  how  changed  since  it 
was  a  peaceful  Tile-field  !  Or  is  the  ground  itself  fate-stricken, 
accursed  ;  an  Atreus'  Palace  ;  for  that  Louvre  window  is  still 
nigh,  out  of  which  a  Capet,  whipt  of  the  Furies,  fired  his 
signal  of  the  Saint  Bartholomew !  Dark  is  the  way  of  the 
Eternal  as  mirrored  in  this  world  of  Time :  God's  way  is  in 
the  sea,  and  His  path  in  the  great  deep. 


CHAPTER   II 

IN   THE   SALLE   DE   MANAGE 

To  believing  Patriots,  however,  it  is  now  clear  that  the 
Constitution  will  march,  marcher^ — had  it  once  legs  to  stand 
on.  Quick,  then,  ye  Patriots,  bestir  yourselves,  and  make  it ; 
shape  legs  for  it !  In  the  Archev£ch6,  or  Archbishop's  Palace, 
his  Grace  himself  having  fled  ;  and  afterwards  in  the  Riding- 
hall,  named  Manage,  close  on  the  Tuileries :  there  does  a 
National  Assembly  apply  itself  to  the  miraculous  work. 
Successfully,  had  there  been  any  heaven-scaling  Prometheus 
among  them  ;  not  successfully,  since  there  was  none  !  There, 
in  noisy  debate,  for  the  sessions  are  occasionally  *  scandalous,' 
and  as  many  as  three  speakers  have  been  seen  in  the  Tribune 
at  once, — let  us  continue  to  fancy  it  wearing  the  slow  months. 

Tough,  dogmatic,  long  of  wind  is  Abbe"  Maury ;  Ciceronian 


6  THE    FEAST    OF    PIKES      [BK.  I.  CH.  II. 

pathetic  is  Cazales.  Keen-trenchant,  on  the  other  side,  glitters 
a  young  Barnave ;  abhorrent  of  sophistry ;  shearing,  like  keen 
Damascus  sabre,  all  sophistry  asunder, — reckless  what  else  he 
shear  with  it.  Simple  seemest  thou,  O  solid  Dutch-built 
Petion ;  if  solid,  surely  dull.  Nor  lifegiving  is  that  tone  of 
thine,  livelier  polemical  Rabaut.  rWith  ineffable  serenity 
sniffs  great  Sieyes,  aloft,  alone ;  ms  Constitution  ye  may 
babble  over,  ye  may  mar,  but  can  by  nq.. possibility  mend :  is 
not  Polity  a  science  he  has  exhausted  P_|  Cool,  slow,  two 
military  Lameths  are  visible,  with  their  quality  sneer,  or 
demi-sneer;  they  shall  gallantly  refund  their  Mother's  Pension, 
when  the  Red  Book  is  produced ;  gallantly  be  wounded  in 
duels.  A  Marquis  Toulongeon,  whose  Pen  we  yet  thank,  sits 
there;  in  stoical  meditative  humour,  oftenest  silent,  accepts 
what  Destiny  will  send.  Thouret  and  Parlementary  Duport 
produce  mountains  of  Reformed  Law ;  liberal,  Anglomaniac  ; 
available  and  unavailable.  Mortals  rise  and  fall.  Shall 
goose  Gobel,  for  example, — or  Gobel,  for  he  is  of  Strasburg 
German  breed, — be  a  Constitutional  Archbishop? 

Alone  of  all  men  there,  Mirabeau  may  begin  to  discern 
clearly  whither  all  this  is  tending.  Patriotism,  accordingly, 
regrets  that  his  zeal  seems  to  be  getting  cool.  In  that  famed 
Pentecost-Night  of  the  Fourth  of  August,  when  new  Faith 
rose  suddenly  into  miraculous  fire,  and  old  Feudality  was 
burnt  up,  men  remarked  that  Mirabeau  took  no  hand  in  it ; 
that,  in  fact,  he  luckily  happened  to  be  absent.  But  did  he 
not  defend  the  Veto,  nay  Veto  Absolu^  and  tell  vehement 
Barnave  that  six  hundred  irresponsible  senators  would  make 
of  all  tyrannies  the  insupportablest  ?  Again,  how  anxious 
was  he  that  the  King's  Ministers  should  have  seat  and  voice  in 
the  National  Assembly; — doubtless  with  an  eye  to  being 
Minister  himself !  Whereupon  the  National  Assembly  decides, 
what  is  very  momentous,  that  no  Deputy  shall  be  Minister ; 
he,  in  his  haughty  stormful  manner,  advising  us  to  make  it, 
*  no  Deputy  called  Mirabeau.1  *  A  man  of  perhaps  inveterate 

1  Moniteur,  Nos.  65,  86  (aath  September,  7th  November,  1789). 


DEC.  1789]      IN   THE   SALLE    DE   MANAGE  7 

Feudalisms  ;  of  stratagems  ;  too  often  visible  leanings  towards 
the  Royalist  side :  a  man  suspect ;  whom  Patriotism  will 
unmask  !  Thus,  in  these  June  days,  when  the  question,  Wlu> 
shall  have  right  to  declare  war  ?  comes  on,  you  hear  hoarse 
Hawkers  sound  dolefully  through  the  streets,  '  Grand  Treason 
of  Count  Mirabeau,  price  only  one  sou ' ; — because  he  pleads 
that  it  shall  be  not  the  Assembly,  but  the  King  !  Pleads ; 
nay  prevails :  for  in  spite  of  the  hoarse  Hawkers,  and  an 
endless  Populace  raised  by  them  to  the  pitch  even  of 
4  Lanterne^  he  mounts  the  Tribune  next  day  ;  grim-resolute  ; 
murmuring  aside  to  his  friends  that  speak  of  danger :  *  I 
know  it :  I  must  come  hence  either  in  triumph  or  else  torn  in 
fragments ' :  and  it  was  in  triumph  that  he  came. 

A  man  stout  of  heart;  whose  popularity  is  not  of  the 
populace  lpas  populaciere'* ;  whom  no  clamour  of  unwashed 
mobs  without  doors,  or  of  washed  mobs  within,  can  scare 
from  his  way !  Dumont  remembers  hearing  him  deliver  a 
Report  on  Marseilles ;  '  every  word  was  interrupted  on  the 
part  of  the  Cote  Droit  by  abusive  epithets ;  calumniator,  liar, 
assassin,  scoundrel  (sctlerat)  :  Mirabeau  pauses  a  moment,  and, 
in  a  honeyed  tone,  addressing  the  most  furious,  says  :  "  I  wait, 
Messieurs,  till  these  amenities  be  exhausted." ' 1  A  man 
enigmatic,  difficult  to  unmask !  For  example,  whence  comes 
his  money  ?  Can  the  profit  of  a  Newspaper,  sorely  eaten  into 
by  Dame  Le  Jay ;  can  this,  and  the  eighteen  francs  a  day 
your  National  Deputy  has,  be  supposed  equal  to  this  expendi- 
ture ?  House  in  the  Chaussee  cTAntin ;  Country-house  at 
Argenteuil ;  splendours,  sumptuosities,  orgies ; — living  as  if 
he  had  a  mint !  All  saloons,  barred  against  Adventurer 
Mirabeau,  are  flung  wide-open  to  King  Mirabeau,  the  cynosure 
of  Europe,  whom  female  France  flutters  to  behold, — though 
the  Man  Mirabeau  is  one  and  the  same.  As  for  money,  one 
may  conjecture  that  Royalism  furnishes  it ;  which  if  Royal  ism 
do,  will  not  the  same  be  welcome,  as  money  always  is  to  him  ? 

*  Sold,'  whatever  Patriotism  thinks,  he  cannot  readily  be : 

1  Dumont,  Souvenirs,  p.  278. 


8  THE    FEAST    OF    PIKES      [BK.  I.  CH.  n. 

the  spiritual  fire  which  is  in  that  man ;  which  shining  through 
such  confusions  is  nevertheless  Conviction,  and  makes  him 
strong,  and  without  which  he  had  no  strength, — is  not  buy- 
able nor  saleable ;  in  such  transference  of  barter,  it  would 
vanish  and  not  be.  Perhaps  *  paid  and  not  sold,  paye  pas 
vendu  * :  as  poor  Rivarol,  in  the  unhappier  converse  way,  calls 
himself  *  sold  and  not  paid ' !  A  man  travelling,  comet-like, 
in  splendour  and  nebulosity,  his  wild  way;  whom  telescopic 
Patriotism  may  long  watch,  but,  without  higher  mathematics, 
will  not  make  out.  A  questionable,  most  blamable  man ;  yet 
to  us  the  far  notablest  of  all.  With  rich  munificence,  as  we 
often  say,  in  a  most  blinkard,  bespectacled,  logic-chopping 
generation,  Nature  has  gifted  this  man  with  an  eye.  Welcome 
is  his  word,  there  where  he  speaks  and  works ;  and  growing 
ever  welcomer ;  for  it  alone  goes  to  the  heart  of  the  business  : 
logical  cobwebbery  shrinks  itself  together ;  and  thou  seest  a 
thing,  how  it  is,  how  it  may  be  worked  with. 

Unhappily  our  National  Assembly  has  much  to  do :  a 
France  to  regenerate;  and  France  is  short  of  so  many 
requisites,  short  even  of  cash.  These  same  Finances  give 
trouble  enough;  no  choking  of  the  Deficit;  which  gapes 
ever,  Give,  give!  To  appease  the  Deficit  we  venture  on  a 
hazardous  step,  sale  of  the  Clergy's  Lands  and  superfluous 
Edifices ;  most  hazardous.  Nay,  given  the  sale,  who  is  to 
buy  them,  ready-money  having  fled?  Wherefore,  on  the 
19th  day  of  December,  a  paper-money  of  *  Assignors?  of 
Bonds  secured,  or  assigned,  on  that  Clerico-National  Property, 
and  unquestionable  at  least  in  payment  of  that, — is  decreed : 
the  first  of  a  long  series  of  like  financial  performances,  which 
shall  astonish  mankind.  So  that  now,  while  old  rags  last, 
there  shall  be  no  lack  of  circulating  medium :  whether  of 
commodities  to  circulate  thereon,  is  another  question.  But, 
after  all,  does  not  this  Assignat  business  speak  volumes  for 
modern  science  ?  Bankruptcy,  we  may  say,  was  come,  as  the 
end  of  all  Delusions  needs  must  come :  yet  how  gently,  in 
softening  diffusion,  in  mild  succession,  was  it  hereby  made  to 


1789-90]     IN    THE    SALLE    DE    MANAGE  9 

fall ; — like  no  all-destroying  avalanche ;  like  gentle  showers  of 
a  powdery  impalpable  snow,  shower  after  shower,  till  all  was 
indeed  buried,  and  yet  little  was  destroyed  that  could  not  be 
replaced,  be  dispensed  with !  To  such  length  has  modem 
machinery  reached.  Bankruptcy,  we  said,  was  great ;  but 
indeed  Money  itself  is  a  standing  miracle. 

On  the  whole,  it  is  a  matter  of  endless  difficulty,  that  of 
the  Clergy.  Clerical  property  may  be  made  the  Nation's,  and 
the  Clergy  hired  servants  of  the  State ;  but  if  so,  is  it  not  an 
altered  Church?  Adjustment  enough,  of  the  most  confused 
sort,  has  become  unavoidable.  Old  landmarks,  in  any  sense, 
avail  not  in  a  new  France.  Nay  literally,  the  very  Ground  is 
new  divided ;  your  old  particoloured  Provinces  become  new 
uniform  Departments  Eighty-three  in  number; — whereby,  as 
in  some  sudden  shifting  of  the  Earth's  axis,  no  mortal  knows 
his  new  latitude  at  once.  The  Twelve  old  Parlements  too, 
what  is  to  be  done  with  them?  The  old  Parlements  are 
declared  to  be  all  '  in  permanent  vacation/ — till  once  the  new 
equal -justice,  of  Departmental  Courts,  National  Appeal-Court, 
of  elective  Justices,  Justices  of  Peace,  and  other  Thouret-and- 
Duport  apparatus  be  got  ready.  They  have  to  sit  there, 
these  old  Parlements,  uneasily  waiting ;  as-  it  were,  with  the 
rope  round  their  neck ;  crying  as  they  can,  Is  there  none  to 
deliver  us  f  But  happily  the  answer  being,  None,  none,  they 
are  a  manageable  class,  these  Parlements.  They  can  be 
bullied,  even,  into  silence ;  the  Paris  Parlement,  wiser  than 
most,  has  never  whimpered.  They  will  and  must  sit  there,  in 
such  vacation  as  is  fit ;  their  Chamber  of  Vacation  distributes 
in  the  interim  what  little  justice  is  going.  With  the  rope 
round  their  neck,  their  destiny  may  be  succinct !  On  the 
13th  of  November  1790,  Mayor  Bailly  shall  walk  to  the 
Palais  de  Justice,  few  even  heeding  him  ;  and  with  municipal 
seal  stamp  and  a  little  hot  wax,  seal  up  the  Parlementary 
Paper-rooms, — and  the  dread  Parlement  of  Paris  pass  away, 
into  Chaos,  gently  as  does  a  Dream !  So  shall  the  Parlements 
perish,  succinctly ;  and  innumerable  eyes  be  dry. 


10  THE    FEAST    OF    PIKES      [BK.  I.  CH.  IL 

Not  so  the  Clergy.  For,  granting  even  that  Religion 
were  dead  ;  that  it  had  died,  half-centuries  ago,  with  unutter- 
able Dubois  ;  or  emigrated  lately  to  Alsace,  with  Necklace- 
Cardinal  Rohan ;  or  that  it  now  walked  as  goblin  revenant, 
with  Bishop  Talleyrand  of  Autun ;  yet  does  not  the  Shadow 
of  Religion,  the  Cant  of  Religion,  still  linger  ?  The  Clergy 
have  means  and  material :  means,  of  number,  organisation, 
social  weight ;  a  material,  at  lowest,  of  public  ignorance, 
known  to  be  the  mother  of  devotion.  Nay  withal,  is  it 
incredible  that  there  might,  in  simple  hearts,  latent  here  and 
there  like  gold-grains  in  the  mud-beach,  still  dwell  some  real 
Faith  in  God,  of  so  singular  and  tenacious  a  sort  that  even  a 
Maury  or  a  Talleyrand  could  still  be  the  symbol  for  it  ? — 
Enough,  the  Clergy  has  strength,  the  Clergy  has  craft  and 
indignation.  It  is  a  most  fatal  business  this  of  the  Clergy. 
A  weltering  hydra-coil,  which  the  National  Assembly  has 
stirred  up  about  its  ears ;  hissing,  stinging ;  which  cannot  be 
appeased,  alive ;  which  cannot  be  trampled  dead !  Fatal, 
from  first  to  last !  Scarcely  after  fifteen  months'  debating, 
can  a  Civil  Constitution  of  tlie  Clergy  be  so  much  as  got  to 
paper  ;  and  then  for  getting  it  into  reality  ?  Alas,  such  Civil 
Constitution  is  but  an  agreement  to  disagree.  It  divides 
France  from  end  to  end,  with  a  new  split,  infinitely  compli- 
cating all  the  other  splits : — Catholicism,  what  of  it  there  is 
left,  with  the  Cant  of  Catholicism,  raging  on  the  one  side, 
and  sceptic  Heathenism  on  the  other ;  both,  by  contradic- 
tion, waxing  fanatic.  What  endless  jarring,  of  Refractory 
hated  Priests,  and  Constitutional  despised  ones ;  of  tender 
consciences,  like  the  King's,  and  consciences  hot-seared,  like 
certain  of  his  People's :  the  whole  to  end  in  Feasts  of  Reason 
and  a  War  of  La  Vendee  !  So  deep-seated  is  Religion  in  the 
heart  of  man,  and  holds  of  all  infinite  passions.  If  the  dead 
echo  of  it  still  did  so  much,  what  could  not  the  living  voice 
of  it  once  do  ? 

Finance  and  Constitution,  Law  and  Gospel :  this  surely 
were  work  enough ;  yet  this  is  not  all.  In  fact,  the  Ministry, 


1789-90]     IN    THE    SALLE    DE    MANAGE         11 

and  Necker  himself,  whom  a  brass  inscription,  *  fastened  by  the 
people  over  his  door-lintel/  testifies  to  be  the  *  Minutre  adorej 
are  dwindling  into  clearer  and  clearer  nullity.  Execution  or 
legislation,  arrangement  or  detail,  from  their  nerveless  fingers 
all  drops  undone ;  all  lights  at  last  on  the  toiled  shoulders 
of  an  august  Representative  Body.  Heavy-laden  National 
Assembly !  It  has  to  hear  of  innumerable  fresh  revolts, 
Brigand  expeditions ;  of  Chateaus  in  the  West,  especially  of 
Charter-Chests,  Chartiers,  set  on  fire ;  for  there  too  the  over- 
loaded Ass  frightfully  recalcitrates.  Of  Cities  in  the  South 
full  of  heats  and  jealousies ;  which  will  end  in  crossed  sabres, 
Marseilles  against  Toulon,  and  Carpentras  beleaguered  by 
Avignon ; — of  so  much  Royalist  collision  in  a  career  of 
Freedom  ;  nay  of  Patriot  collision,  which  a  mere  difference  of 
velocity  will  bring  about !  Of  a  Jourdan  Coup-tete,  who  has 
skulked  thitherward,  to  those  southern  regions,  from  the  claws 
of  the  Chatelet ;  and  will  raise  whole  scoundrel  regiments. 

Also  it  has  to  hear  of  Royalist  Camp  of  Jolts  :  Jales  moun- 
tain-girdled Plain,  amid  the  rocks  of  the  Cevennes ;  whence 
Royalism,  as  is  feared  and  hoped,  may  dash  down  like  a 
mountain  deluge,  and  submerge  France !  A  singular  thing 
this  Camp  of  Jales ;  existing  mostly  on  paper.  For  the 
Soldiers  at  Jales,  being  peasants  or  National  Guards,  were  in 
heart  sworn  Sansculottes ;  and  all  that  the  Royalist  Captains 
could  do,  was,  with  false  words,  to  keep  them,  or  rather  keep 
the  report  of  them,  drawn  up  there,  visible  to  all  imaginations, 
for  a  terror  and  a  sign, — if  peradventure  France  might  be 
reconquered  by  theatrical  machinery,  by  the  picture  of  a 
Royalist  Army  done  to  the  life  !  *  Not  till  the  third  summer 
was  this  portent,  burning  out  by  fits  and  then  fading,  got 
finally  extinguished ;  was  the  old  Castle  of  Jales,  no  Camp 
being  visible  to  the  bodily  eye,  got  blown  asunder  by  some 
National  Guards. 

Also  it  has  to  hear  not  only  of  Brissot  and  his  Friends  of 
the  Blacks,  but  by  and  by  of  a  whole  St.  Domingo  blazing 

1  Dampmartin,  EvJnemtnst  i.  208. 


12  THE    FEAST    OF    PIKES      [BK.  I.  CH.  II 

skyward  ;  blazing  in  literal  fire,  and  in  far  worse  metaphorical ; 
beaconing  the  nightly  main.  Also  of  the  shipping  interest, 
and  the  landed  interest,  and  all  manner  of  interests,  reduced 
to  distress.  Of  Industry  everywhere  manacled,  bewildered ; 
and  only  Rebellion  thriving.  Of  sub-officers,  soldiers  and 
sailors  in  mutiny  by  land  and  water.  Of  soldiers,  at  Nanci, 
as  we  shall  see,  needing  to  be  cannonaded  by  a  brave  Bouille. 
Of  sailors,  nay  the  very  galley-slaves,  at  Brest,  needing  also  to 
be  cannonaded,  but  with  no  Bouille  to  do  it.  For  indeed,  to 
say  it  in  a  word,  in  those  days  there  was  no  King  in  Israel, 
and  every  man  did  that  which  was  right  in  his  own  eyes.1 

Such  things  has  an  august  National  Assembly  to  hear  of, 
as  it  goes  on  regenerating  France.  Sad  and  stern  :  but  what 
remedy  ?  Get  the  Constitution  ready ;  and  all  men  will  swear 
to  it:  for  do  not  *  Addresses  of  adhesion'  arrive  by  the  cartload? 
In  this  manner,  by  Heaven's  blessing,  and  a  Constitution  got 
ready,  shall  the  bottomless  fire-gulf  be  vaulted  in,  with  rag- 
paper  ;  and  Order  will  wed  Freedom,  and  live  with  her  there, 
— till  it  grow  too  hot  for  them.  O  C6t6  Gauche,  worthy  are 
ye,  as  the  adhesive  Addresses  generally  say,  to  *  fix  the  regards 
of  the  Universe ' ;  the  regards  of  this  one  poor  Planet,  at 
lowest ! — 

Nay,  it  must  be  owned,  the  Coti  Droit  makes  a  still  madder 
figure.  An  irrational  generation ;  irrational,  imbecile,  and 
with  the  vehement  obstinacy  characteristic  of  that ;  a  genera- 
tion which  will  not  learn.  Falling  Bastilles,  Insurrections 
of  Women,  thousands  of  smoking  Manorhouses,  a  country 
bristling  with  no  crop  but  that  of  Sansculottic  steel :  these 
were  tolerably  didactic  lessons ;  but  them  they  have  not 
taught.  There  are  still  men,  of  whom  it  was  of  old  written, 
Bray  them  in  a  mortar !  Or,  in  milder  language,  They  have 
wedded  their  delusions :  fire  nor  steel,  nor  any  sharpness  of 

1  See  Deux  Amis,  iii.  c.  14;  iv.  c.  2,  3,  4,  7,  9,  H-  Expedition  dts 
Volontaires  de  Brest  sur  Lannion ;  Let  Lyonnais  Sauveurs  dts  Dauphinoit; 
Massacre  au  Mans;  Troublts  du  Maint  (Pamphlets  and  Excerpts,  in  Hist.  ParL 
iii.  251 :  iv.  162-168),  etc. 


1789-90]     IN    THE    SALLE    DE    MANAGE         IS 

Experience,  shall  sever  the  bond  ;  till  death  do  us  part !  On 
such  may  the  Heavens  have  mercy ;  for  the  Earth,  with  her 
rigorous  Necessity,  will  have  none. 

Admit,  at  the  same  time,  that  it  was  most  natural.  Man 
lives  by  Hope :  Pandora,  when  her  box  of  gods'-gifts  flew  all 
out,  and  became  gods'-curses,  still  retained  Hope.  How  shall 
an  irrational  mortal,  when  his  highplace  is  never  so  evidently 
pulled  down,  and  he,  being  irrational,  is  left  resourceless,  part 
with  the  belief  that  it  will  be  rebuilt  ?  It  would  make  all  so 
straight  again ;  it  seems  so  unspeakably  desirable ;  so  reason- 
able,— would  you  but  look  at  it  aright !  For,  must  not  the 
thing  which  was  continue  to  be  ;  or  else  the  solid  World 
dissolve  ?  Yes,  persist,  O  infatuated  Sansculottes  of  France  ! 
Revolt  against  constituted  Authorities ;  hunt  out  your  rightful 
Seigneurs,  who  at  bottom  so  loved  you,  and  readily  shed  their 
blood  for  you, — in  country's  battles  as  at  Rossbach  and  else- 
where ;  and,  even  in  preserving  game,  were  preserving  you, 
could  ye  but  have  understood  it :  hunt  them  out,  as  if  they 
were  wild  wolves ;  set  fire  to  their  Chateaus  and  Chartiers  as 
to  wolf-dens ;  and  what  then  ?  Why,  then  turn  every  man- 
his  hand  against  his  fellow  !  In  confusion,  famine,  desolation, 
regret  the  days  that  are  gone  ;  rueful  recall  them,  recall  us 
with  them.  To  repentant  prayers  we  will  not  be  deaf. 

So,  with  dimmer  or  clearer  consciousness,  must  the  Right 
Side  reason  and  act.  An  inevitable  position  perhaps ;  but  a 
most  false  one  for  them.  Evil,  be  thou  our  good :  this 
henceforth  must  virtually  be  their  prayer.  The  fiercer  the 
effervescence  grows,  the  sooner  will  it  pass  ;  for,  after  all,  it 
is  but  some  mad  effervescence ;  the  World  is  solid,  and  cannot 
dissolve. 

For  the  rest,  if  they  have  any  positive  industry,  it  is  that 
of  plots,  and  backstairs  conclaves.  Plots  which  cannot  be 
executed ;  which  are  mostly  theoretic  on  their  part ; — for 
which  nevertheless  this  and  the  other  practical  Sieur  Augeard, 
Sieur  Maillebois,  Sieur  Bonne  Savardin,  gets  into  trouble,  gets 
imprisoned,  and  escapes  with  difficulty.  Nay  there  is  a  poor 


14  THE    FEAST    OF    PIKES      [BK.  I.  CH.  IL 

practical  Chevalier  Favras,  who,  not  without  some  passing 
reflex  on  Monsieur  himself,  gets  hanged  for  them,  amid  loud 
uproar  of  the  world.  Poor  Favras,  he  keeps  dictating  his  last 
will  'at  the  H6tel-de-Ville,  through  the  whole  remainder  of 
the  day,'  a  weary  February  day ;  offers  to  reveal  secrets,  if 
they  will  save  him ;  handsomely  declines  since  they  will  not ; 
then  dies,  in  the  flare  of  torchlight,  with  politest  composure ; 
remarking,  rather  than  exclaiming,  with  outspread  hands : 
'  People,  I  die  innocent ;  pray  for  me."* 1  Poor  Favras ; — type 
of  so  much  that  has  prowled  indefatigable  over  France,  in 
days  now  ending ;  and,  in  freer  field,  might  have  earned  instead 
of  prowling, — to  thee  it  is  no  theory  ! 

In  the  Senate-house  again,  the  attitude  of  the  Right  Side 
is  that  of  calm  unbelief.  Let  an  august  National  Assembly 
make  a  Fourth-of- August  Abolition  of  Feudality ;  declare  the 
Clergy  State-servants,  who  shall  have  wages ;  vote  Suspensive 
Vetos,  new  Law-Courts ;  vote  or  decree  what  contested  thing 
it  will ;  have  it  responded  to  from  the  four  corners  of  France, 
nay  get  King's  Sanction,  and  what  other  Acceptance  were 
conceivable, — the  Right  Side,  as  we  find,  persists,  with  imper- 
turbablest  tenacity,  in  considering,  and  ever  and  anon  shows 
that  it  still  considers,  all  these  so-called  Decrees  as  mere 
temporary  whims,  which  indeed  stand  on  paper,  but  in 
practice  and  fact  are  not,  and  cannot  be.  Figure  the  brass 
head  of  an  Abbe  Maury  flooding  forth  Jesuitic  eloquence  in 
this  strain ;  dusky  D'Espremenil,  Barrel  Mirabeau  (probably 
in  liquor),  and  enough  of  others,  cheering  him  from  the  Right; 
and,  for  example,  with  what  visage  a  seagreen  Robespierre 
eyes  him  from  the  Left.  And  how  Sieyes  ineffably  sniffs  on 
him,  or  does  not  deign  to  sniff";  and  how  the  Galleries  groan 
'in  spirit,  or  bark  rabid  on  him ;  so  that  to  escape  the 
Lanterne,  on  stepping  forth,  he  needs  presence  of  mind,  and 
a  pair  of  pistols  in  his  girdle !  For  he  is  one  of  the  toughest 
of  men. 

Here  indeed  becomes  notable  one  great  difference  between 
1  See  Deux  Amis,  ir.  &  14,  7 ;  Hist.  Parl.  vi.  384. 


1789-90]    IN  THE  SA'LLE  DE  MANAGE      15 

our  two  kinds  of  civil  war ;  between  the  modern  lingual  or 
Parliamentary-logical  kind,  and  the  ancient  or  manual  kind 
in  the  steel  battlefield  ; — much  to  the  disadvantage  of  the 
former.  In  the  manual  kind,  where  you  front  your  foe 
with  drawn  weapon,  one  right  stroke  is  final  ;  for,  physically 
speaking,  when  the  brains  are  out  the  man  does  honestly 
die,  and  trouble  you  no  more.  But  how  different  when 
it  is  with  arguments  you  fight  !  Here  no  victory  yet 
definable  can  be  considered  as  final.  Beat  him  down  with 
Parliamentary  invective,  till  sense  be  fled  ;  cut  him  in  two, 
hanging  one  half  on  this  dilemma-horn,  the  other  on  that ; 
blow  the  brains  or  thinking-faculty  quite  out  of  him  for 
the  time  :  it  skills  not ;  he  rallies  and  revives  on  the  morrow ; 
tomorrow  he  repairs  his  golden  fires !  The  thing  that  will 
logically  extinguish  him  is  perhaps  still  a  desideratum  in 
Constitutional  civilisation.  For  how,  till  a  man  know,  in 
some  measure,  at  what  point  he  becomes  logically  defunct, 
can  Parliamentary  Business  be  carried  on,  and  Talk  cease  or 
slake  ? 

Doubtless  it  was  some  feeling  of  this  difficulty ;  and  the 
clear  insight  how  little  such  knowledge  yet  existed  in  the 
French  Nation,  new  in  the  Constitutional  career,  and  how 
defunct  Aristocrats  would  continue  to  walk  for  unlimited 
periods,  as  Partridge  the  Almanac-maker  did, — that  had  sunk 
into  the  deep  mind  of  PeopleVfriend  Marat,  an  eminently 
practical  mind ;  and  had  grown  there,  in  that  richest 
putrescent  soil,  into  the  most  original  plan  of  action  ever 
submitted  to  a  People.  Not  yet  has  it  grown ;  but  it  has 
germinated,  it  is  growing ;  rooting  itself  into  Tartarus, 
branching  towards  Heaven  :  the  second  season  hence,  we 
shall  see  it  risen  out  of  the  bottomless  Darkness,  full-grown, 
into  disastrous  Twilight, — a  Hemlock -tree,  great  as  the 
world  ;  on  or  under  whose  boughs  all  the  People Vfriends 
of  the  world  may  lodge.  *  Two  hundred  and  Sixty  thousand 
Aristocrat  heads ' :  that  is  the  precisest  calculation,  though 
one  would  not  stand  on  a  few  hundreds ;  yet  we  never  rise 


16  THE    FEAST    OF    PIKES      [BK.  I.  CH.  n. 

as  high  as  the  round  Three  hundred  thousand.  Shudder 
at  it,  O  People  ;  but  it  is  as  true  as  that  ye  yourselves, 
and  your  People Vfriend,  are  alive.  These  prating  Senators 
of  yours  hover  ineffectual  on  the  barren  letter,  and  will 
never  save  the  Revolution.  A  Cassandra-Marat  cannot  dc 
it,  with  his  single  shrunk  arm  ;  but  with  a  few  determined 
men  it  were  possible.  *  Give  me,'  said  the  PeopleVfriend, 
in  his  cold  way,  when  young  Barbarous,  once  his  pupil  in 
a  course  of  what  was  called  Optics,  went  to  see  him,  *  Give 
me  two  hundred  Naples  Bravoes,  armed  each  with  a  good 
dirk,  and  a  muff  on  his  left  arm  by  way  of  shield  :  with 
them  I  will  traverse  France,  and  accomplish  the  Revolution.''  x 
Nay,  be  grave,  young  Barbaroux  ;  for  thou  seest  there  is  no 
jesting  in  those  rheumy  eyes,  in  that  soot-bleared  figure, 
most  earnest  of  created  things ;  neither  indeed  is  there 
madness,  of  the  strait- waistcoat  sort. 

Such  produce  shall  the  Time  ripen  in  cavernous  Marat,  the 
man  forbid  ;  living  in  Paris  cellars,  lone  as  fanatic  Anchorite 
in  his  Thebaid  ;  say,  as  far-seen  Simon  on  his  Pillar, — taking 
peculiar  views  therefrom.  Patriots  may  smile ;  and,  using 
him  as  bandog  now  to  be  muzzled,  now  to  be  let  bark,  name 
him,  as  Desmoulins  does,  '  Maximum  of  Patriotism '  and 
*  Cassandra-Marat ' :  but  were  it  not  singular  if  this  dirk- 
and-muff  plan  of  his  (with  superficial  modifications)  proved 
to  be  precisely  the  plan  adopted  ? 

After  this  manner,  in  these  circumstances,  do  august 
Senators  regenerate  France.  Nay,  they  are,  in  very  deed, 
believed  to  be  regenerating  it ;  on  account  of  which  great 
fact,  main  fact  of  their  history,  the  wearied  eye  can  never  be 
permitted  wholly  to  ignore  them. 

But,    looking    away    now    from    these    precincts    of    the 

Tuileries,  where  Constitutional  Royalty,  let  Lafayette  water 

it  as  he  will,  languishes  too  like  a  cut  branch  ;  and  august 

Senators  are  perhaps  at  bottom  only  perfecting  their  *  theory 

1  Mtmoires  dt  Barbaroux  (Par^,  1822),  p.  57. 


OCT.  21,  1789]     IN   THE   SALLE   DE   MANAGE        17 

of  defective  verbs/ — how  does  the  young  Reality,  young 
Sansculot  tism  thrive  ?  The  attentive  observer  can  answer  : 
It  thrives  bravely  ;  putting  forth  new  buds  ;  expanding  the 
old  buds  into  leaves,  into  boughs.  Is  not  French  Existence, 
as  before,  most  prurient,  all  loosened,  most  nutrient  for  it  ? 
Sansculottism  has  the  property  of  growing  by  what  other 
things  die  of :  by  agitation,  contention,  disarrangement ;  nay 
in  a  word,  by  what  is  the  symbol  and  fruit  of  all  these  : 
Hunger. 

In  such  a  France  as  this,  Hunger,  as  we  have  remarked, 
can  hardly  fail.  The  Provinces,  the  Southern  Cities  feel  it  in 
their  turn  ;  and  what  it  brings  :  Exasperation,  preternatural 
Suspicion.  In  Paris  some  halcyon  days  of  abundance  followed 
the  Menadic  Insurrection,  with  its  Versailles  grain-carts,  and 
recovered  Restorer  of  Liberty  ;  but  they  could  not  continue. 
The  month  is  still  October,  when  famishing  Saint- Antoine,  in 
a  moment  of  passion,  seizes  a  poor  Baker,  innocent  *  Francois 
the  Baker  ' ;  *  and  hangs  him,  in  Constantinople  wise  ; — but 
even  this,  singular  as  it  may  seem,  does  not  cheapen  bread  ! 
Too  clear  it  is,  no  Royal  bounty,  no  Municipal  dexterity  can 
adequately  feed  a  Bastille-destroying  Paris.  Wherefore,  on 
view  of  the  hanged  Baker,  Constitutionalism  in  sorrow  and 
anger  demands  *  Loft  MartialeJ  a  kind  of  Riot  Act ; — and 
indeed  gets  it  most  readily,  almost  before  the  sun  goes  down. 

This  is  that  famed  Martial  Law,  with  its  Red  Flag,  its 
'  Drapeau  Rouge?  in  virtue  of  which  Mayor  Bailly,  or  any 
Mayor,  has  but  henceforth  to  hang  out  that  new  Oriflamme 
of  his  ;  then  to  read  or  mumble  something  about  the  King's 
peace ;  and,  after  certain  pauses,  serve  any  undispersing 
Assemblage  with  musket-shot,  or  whatever  shot  will  disperse 
it.  A  decisive  Law ;  and  most  just  on  one  proviso  :  that 
all  Patrollotism  be  of  God,  and  all  mob-assembling  be  of 
the  Devil ;— otherwise  not  so  just.  Mayor  Bailly,  be  unwill- 
ing to  use  it  !  Hang  not  out  that  new  Oriflamme,  fame 
not  of  gold  but  of  the  want  of  gold  !  The  thrice-blessed 

1  2ist  October  1789  (Moniteur,  No.  76). 
VOL.  IL  B 


18  THE    FEAST    OF    PIKES     [BK.  I.  CH.  in. 

Revolution  is  done,  thou  thinkest  ?     If   so,   it  will  be  well 
with  thee. 

But  now  let  no  mortal  say  henceforth  that  an  august 
National  Assembly  wants  riot :  all  it  ever  wanted  was  riot 
enough  to  balance  Court-plotting ;  all  it  now  wants,  of 
Heaven  or  of  Earth,  is  to  get  its  theory  of  defective  verbs 
perfected. 


CHAPTER    III 

THE   MUSTER 

WITH  Famine  and  a  Constitutional  theory  of  defective 
verbs  going  on,  all  other  excitement  is  conceivable.  A 
universal  shaking  and  sifting  of  French  Existence  this  is  : 
in  the  course  of  which,  for  one  thing,  what  a  multitude  of 
low-lying  figures  are  sifted  to  the  top,  and  set  busily  to  work 
there  ! 

Dogleech  Marat,  now  far-seen  as  Simon  Stylites,  we  already 
know ;  him  and  others,  raised  aloft.  The  mere  sample  these 
of  what  is  coming,  of  what  continues  coming,  upwards  from 
the  realm  of  Night ! — Chaumette,  by  and  by  Anaxagoras 
Chaumette,  one  already  descries  :  mellifluous  in  street-groups ; 
not  now  a  seaboy  on  the  high  and  giddy  mast :  a  mellifluous 
tribune  of  the  common  people,  with  long  curling  locks,  on 
bournestone  of  the  thoroughfares  ;  able  sub-editor  too  ;  who 
shall  rise, — to  the  very  gallows.  Clerk  Tallien,  he  also  is 
become  sub-editor ;  shall  become  able-editor ;  and  more. 
Bibliopolic  Momoro,  Typographic  Prudhomme  see  new  trades 
opening.  Collot  d'Herbois,  tearing  a  passion  to  rags,  pauses 
on  the  Thespian  boards  ;  listens,  with  that  black  bushy  head, 
to  the  sound  of  the  world's  drama  :  shall  the  Mimetic  become 
Real  ?  Did  ye  hiss  him,  O  men  of  Lyons  ? l  Better  had  ye 
clapped ! 

Happy  now,  indeed,  for  all  manner  of  mimetic,  half-original 
1  Buzot,  M/m<nres  (Paris,  1823),  p.  90. 


1789-90]  THE    MUSTER  19 

men  !  Tumid  blustering,  with  more  or  less  of  sincerity,  which 
need  not  be  entirely  sincere,  yet  the  sincerer  the  better,  is 
like  to  go  far.  Shall  we  say,  the  Revolution-element  works 
itself  rarer  and  rarer ;  so  that  only  lighter  and  lighter  bodies 
will  float  in  it ;  till  at  last  the  mere  blown-bladder  is  your 
only  swimmer  ?  Limitation  of  mind,  then  vehemence, 
promptitude,  audacity  shall  all  be  available ;  to  which  add 
only  these  two  :  cunning  and  good  lungs.  Good  fortune 
must  be  presupposed.  Accordingly,  of  all  classes  the  rising 
one,  we  observe,  is  now  the  Attorney  class :  witness  Bazires, 
Carriers,  Fouquier-Tinvilles,  Basoche- Captain  Bourdons  :  more 
than  enough.  Such  figures  shall  Night,  from  her  wonder- 
bearing  bosom,  emit-;  swarm  after  swarm.  Of  another 
deeper  and  deepest  swarm,  not  yet  dawned  on  the  astonished 
eye ;  of  pilfering  Candle-snuffers,  Thief-valets,  disfrocked 
Capuchins,  and  so  many  Heberts,  Henriots,  Ronsins,  Ros- 
signols,  let  us,  as  long  as  possible,  forbear  speaking. 

Thus,  over  France,  all  stirs  that  has  what  the  Physiologists 
call  irritability  in  it :  how  much  more  all  wherein  irritability 
has  perfected  itself  into  vitality,  into  actual  vision,  and  force 
that  can  will  !  All  stirs  ;  and  if  not  in  Paris,  flocks  thither. 
Great  and  greater  waxes  President  Danton  in  his  Cordeliers 
Section ;  his  rhetorical  tropes  are  all  *  gigantic ' :  energy 
flashes  from  his  black  brows,  menaces  in  his  athletic  figure, 
rolls  in  the  sound  of  his  voice  *  reverberating  from  the  domes ' : 
this  man  also,  like  Mirabeau,  has  a  natural  eye,  and  begins 
to  see  whither  Constitutionalism  is  tending,  though  with  a 
wish  in  it  different  from  Mirabeau's. 

Remark,  on  the  other  hand,  how  General  Dumouriez  has 
juitted  Normandy  and  the  Cherbourg  Breakwater,  to  come — 
whither  we  may  guess.  It  is  his  second  or  even  third  trial 
at  Paris,  since  this  New  Era  began  ;  but  now  it  is  in  right 
earnest,  for  he  has  quitted  all  else.  Wiry,  elastic,  unwearied 
man ;  whose  life  was  but  a  battle  and  a  march !  No,  not 
a  creature  of  ChoiseuTs;  'the  creature  of  God  and  of  my 
sword,' — he  fiercely  answered  in  old  days.  Overfalling  Cor- 


20  THE    FEAST    OF    PIKES     [BK.  I.  CH.  m. 

sican  batteries,  in  the  deadly  fire-hail ;  wriggling  invincible 
from  under  his  horse,  at  Closterkarap  of  the  Netherlands, 
though  tethered  with  *  crushed  stirrup -iron  and  nineteen 
wounds ' ;  tough,  minatory,  standing  at  bay,  as  forlorn  hope, 
on  the  skirts  of  Poland  ;  intriguing,  battling  in  cabinet  and 
field  ;  roaming  far  out,  obscure,  as  King's  spial,  or  sitting 
sealed  up,  enchanted  in  Bastille ;  fencing,  pamphleteering, 
scheming  and  struggling  from  the  very  birth  of  him,1 — the 
man  has  come  thus  far.  How  repressed,  how  irrepressible ! 
Like  some  incarnate  spirit  in  prison,  which  indeed  he  was ; 
hewing  on  granite  walls  for  deliverance ;  striking  fire-flashes 
from  them.  And  now  has  the  general  earthquake  rent  his 
cavern  too  ?  Twenty  years  younger,  what  might  he  not  have 
done  !  But  his  hair  has  a  shade  of  grey  ;  his  way  of  thought 
is  all  fixed,  military.  He  can  grow  no  further,  and  the  new 
world  is  in  such  growth.  We  will  name  him,  on  the  whole, 
one  of  Heaven's  Swiss ;  without  faith ;  wanting  above  all 
things  work,  work  on  any  side.  Work  also  is  appointed  him ; 
and  he  will  do  it. 

Not  from  over  France  only  are  the  unrestful  flocking 
towards  Paris  ;  but  from  all  sides  of  Europe.  Where  the 
carcass  is,  thither  will  the  eagles  gather.  Think  how  many 
a  Spanish  Guzman,  Martinico  Fournier  named  *  Fournier 
rAmericainJ  Engineer  Miranda  from  the  very  Andes,  were 
flocking  or  had  flocked.  Walloon  Pereyra  might  boast  of  the 
strangest  parentage  :  him,  they  say,  Prince  Kaunitz  the  Diplo- 
matist heedlessly  dropped  ;  like  ostrich-egg,  to  be  hatched 
of  Chance, — into  an  ostrich  -  eater !  Jewish  or  German 
Freys  do  business  in  the  great  Cesspool  of  Agio ;  which 
Cesspool  this  Assignat-fisA,  has  quickened,  into  a  Mother  of 
dead  dogs.  Swiss  Claviere  could  found  no  Socinian  Genevese 
Colony  in  Ireland ;  but  he  paused,  years  ago,  prophetic, 
before  the  Minister's  Hotel  at  Paris ;  and  said,  it  was  borne 
on  his  mind  that  he  one  day  was  to  be  Minister,  and 

1  Dumouriez,  AfAnoires,  i.  28,  etc. 


1789-90]  THE    MUSTER  21 

laughed.1  Swiss  Pache,  on  the  other  hand,  sits  sleekheaded, 
frugal ;  the  wonder  of  his  own  alley,  and  even  of  neighbouring 
ones,  for  humility  of  mind,  and  a  thought  deeper  than  most 
men's  :  sit  there,  Tartuffe,  till  wanted  !  Ye  Italian  Dufour- 
nys,  Flemish  Prolys,  flit  hither  all  ye  bipeds  of  prey  !  Come 
whosesoever  head  is  hot ;  thou  of  mind  ungoverned,  be  it 
chaos  as  of  undevelopment  or  chaos  as  of  ruin  ;  the  man  who 
cannot  get  known,  the  man  who  is  too  well  known  ;  if  thou 
have  any  vendible  faculty,  nay  if  thou  have  but  edacity  and 
loquacity,  come  !  They  come  ;  with  hot  unutterabilities  in 
their  heart ;  as  Pilgrims  towards  a  miraculous  shrine.  Nay 
how  many  come  as  vacant  Strollers,  aimless,  of  whom  Europe 
is  full,  merely  towards  something  \  For  benighted  fowls, 
when  you  beat  their  bushes,  rush  towards  any  light.  Thus 
Frederick  Baron  Trenck  too  is  here ;  mazed,  purblind,  from 
the  cells  of  Magdeburg ;  Minotauric  cells,  and  his  Ariadne 
lost !  Singular  to  say,  Trenck,  in  these  years,  sells  wine ; 
not  indeed  in  bottle,  but  in  wood. 

Nor  is  our  England  without  her  missionaries.  She  has 
her  life-saving  Needham ; s  to  whom  was  solemnly  presented 
a  'civic  sword,* — long  since  rusted  into  nothingness.  Her 
Paine :  rebellious  Staymaker ;  unkempt ;  who  feels  that  he, 
a  single  Needleman,  did,  by  his  Common-Sense  Pamphlet,  free 
America ; — that  he  can  and  will  free  all  this  World  ;  perhaps 
even  the  other.  Price-Stanhope  Constitutional  Association 
sends  over  to  congratulate ; 8  welcomed  by  National  Assembly, 
though  they  are  but  a  London  Club ;  whom  Burke  and 
Toryism  eye  askance. 

On  thee  too,  for  country's  sake,  O  Chevalier  John  Paul,  be 

1  Dumont,  Souvenirs  fur  Mirabcau,  p.  399. 

1  A  trustworthy  gentleman  writes  to  me,  three  years  ago,  with  a  feeling 
which  I  cannot  but  respect,  that  his  Father,  '  the  late  Admiral  Nesham '  (not 
Needham,  as  the  French  Journalists  give  it)  is  the  Englishman  meant ;  and 
furthermore  that  the  sword  is  'not  rusted  at  all,'  but  still  lies,  with  the  due 
memory  attached  to  it,  in  his  (the  son's)  possession,  at  Plymouth,  in  a  clear 
state.  (NotcofiZtf.) 

1  Moniteur,  10  Novembre,  ^  Decembre,  1789. 


22  THE    FEAST    OF    PIKES     [BK.  I.  CH.  m. 

a  word  spent,  or  misspent !  In  faded  naval  uniform,  Paul 
Jones  lingers  visible  here;  like  a  wineskin  from  which  the 
wine  is  all  drawn.  Like  the  ghost  of  himself !  Low  is  his 
once  loud  bruit ;  scarcely  audible,  save,  with  extreme  tedium, 
in  ministerial  ante-chambers,  in  this  or  the  other  charitable 
dining-room,  mindful  of  the  past.  What  changes  ;  culmi- 
natings  and  declinings !  Not  now,  poor  Paul,  thou  lookest 
wistful  over  the  Solway  brine,  by  the  foot  of  native  Criffel, 
into  blue  mountainous  Cumberland,  into  blue  Infinitude ;  en- 
vironed with  thrift,  with  humble  friendliness ;  thyself,  young 
fool,  longing  to  be  aloft  from  it,  or  even  to  be  away  from  it. 
Yes,  beyond  that  sapphire  Promontory,  which  men  name  St. 
Bees,  which  is  not  sapphire  either,  but  dull  sandstone,  when 
one  gets  close  to  it,  there  is  a  world.  Which  world  thou  too 
shalt  taste  of ! — From  yonder  White  Haven  rise  his  smoke- 
clouds  ;  ominous  though  ineffectual.  Proud  Forth  quakes  at 
his  bellying  sails  ;  had  not  the  wind  suddenly  shifted.  Flam- 
borough  reapers,  homegoing,  pause  on  the  hill-side  for  what 
sulphur-cloud  is  that  that  defaces  the  sleek  sea .  sulphur- 
cloud  spitting  streaks  of  fire?  A  sea  cock-fight  it  is,  and 
of  the  hottest ;  where  British  Serapis  and  French -American 
Bon  Homme  Richard  do  lash  and  throttle  each  other,  in  their 
fashion ;  and  lo  the  desperate  valour  has  suffocated  the 
deliberate,  and  Paul  Jones  too  is  of  the  Kings  of  the  Sea ! 

The  Euxine,  the  Meotian  waters  felt  thee  next,  and  long- 
skirted  Turks,  O  Paul ;  and  thy  fiery  soul  has  wasted  itself  in 
thousand  contradictions  ; — to  no  purpose.  For,  in  far  lands, 
with  scarlet  Nassau-Siegens,  with  sinful  Imperial  Catherines,  is 
not  the  heart  broken,  even  as  at  home  with  the  mean  ?  Poor 
Paul  !  hunger  and  dispiritment  track  thy  sinking  footsteps  : 
once,  or  at  most  twice,  in  this  Revolution-tumult  the  figure  of 
thee  emerges ;  mute,  ghostlike,  as  '  with  stars  dim-twinkling 
through.'  And  then,  when  the  light  is  gone  quite  out,  a 
National  Legislature  grants  *  ceremonial  funeral '  !  As  good 
had  been  the  natural  Presbyterian  Kirk-bell,  and  six  feet  of 
Scottish  earth,  among  the  dust  of  thy  loved  ones. — Such 


1789-90]  THE    MUSTER  23 

world  lay  beyond  the  Promontory  of  St  Bees.     Such  is  the 
life  of  sinful  mankind  here  below. 

But  of  all  strangers  far  the  notablest  for  us  is  Baron  Jean 
Baptiste  de  Clootz ; — or,  dropping  baptisms  and  feudalisms, 
World-Citizen  Anacharsis  Clootz,  from  Cleves.  Him  mark, 
judicious  Reader.  Thou  hast  known  his  Uncle,  sharp-sighted, 
thorough-going  Cornelius  de  Pauw,  who  mercilessly  cuts  down 
cherished  illusions ;  and  of  the  finest  antique  Spartans  will 
make  mere  modern  cutthroat  Mainots.1  The  like  stuff  is  in 
Anacharsis  :  hot  metal ;  full  of  scoriae,  which  should  and 
could  have  been  smelted  out,  but  which  will  not.  He  has 
wandered  over  this  terraqueous  Planet ;  seeking,  one  may  say, 
the  Paradise  we  lost  long  ago.  He  has  seen  English  Burke ; 
has  been  seen  of  the  Portugal  Inquisition ;  has  roamed,  and 
fought,  and  written  ;  is  writing,  among  other  things,  *  Evi- 
dences of  the  Mahometan  Religion.''  But  now,  like  his 
Scythian  adoptive  godfather,  he  finds  himself  in  the  Paris 
Athens  ;  surely,  at  last,  the  haven  of  his  soul.  A  dashing 
man,  beloved  at  Patriotic  dinner-tables  ;  with  gaiety,  nay  with 
humour ;  headlong,  trenchant,  of  free  purse ;  in  suitable 
costume ;  though  what  mortal  ever  more  despised  costumes  ? 
Under  all  costumes  Anacharsis  seeks  the  man  ;  not  Stylites 
Marat  will  more  freely  trample  costumes,  if  they  hold  no  man. 
This  is  the  faith  of  Anacharsis  :  That  there  is  a  Paradise 
discoverable ;  that  all  costumes  ought  to  hold  men.  O 
Anacharsis,  it  is  a  headlong,  swift-going  faith.  Mounted 
thereon,  meseems,  thou  art  bound  hastily  for  the  City  of 
Nowhere ;  and  wilt  arrive !  At  best,  we  may  say,  arrive  in 
good  riding  attitude  ;  which  indeed  is  something. 

So  many  new  persons  and  new  things  have  come  to  occupy 

this  France.       Her   old  Speech   and  Thought,  and   Activity 

which    springs    from    these,    are    all    changing ;     fermenting 

towards  unknown  issues.     To  the  dullest  peasant,  as  he  sits 

1  De  Pauw,  Rtcherches  ntr  la  Grtts,  etc. 


24  THE    FEAST    OF^  PIKES     [BK.  I.  CH.  m. 

sluggish,  over-toiled,  by  his  evening  hearth,  one  idea  has 
come :  that  of  Chateaus  burnt ;  of  Chateaus  combustible. 
How  altered  all  Coffeehouses,  in  Province  or  Capital !  The 
Antre  de  Procope  has  now  other  questions  than  the  Three 
Stagyrite  Unities  to  settle ;  not  theatre-controversies,  but  a 
world-controversy :  there,  in  the  ancient  pigtail  mode,  or  with 
modern  Brutus1  heads,  do  well-frizzed  logicians  hold  hubbub, 
and  Chaos  umpire  sits.  The  ever-enduring  melody  of  Paris 
Saloons  has  got  a  new  ground-tone  :  ever-enduring  ;  which 
has  been  heard,  and  by  the  listening  Heaven  too,  since  Julian 
the  Apostate's  time  and  earlier ;  mad  now  as  formerly. 

Ex-Censor  Suard,  .Er-Censor,  for  we  have  freedom  of  the 
Press  ;  he  may  be  seen  there  ;  impartial,  even  neutral.  Tyrant 
Grimm  rolls  large  eyes,  over  a  questionable  coming  Time. 
Atheist  Naigeon,  beloved-disciple  of  Diderot,  crows,  in  his 
small  difficult  way,  heralding  glad  dawn.1  But  on  the  other 
hand,  how  many  Morellets,  Marmontels,  who  had  sat  all  their 
life  hatching  Philosophe  eggs,  cackle  now,  in  a  state  border- 
ing on  distraction,  at  the  brood  they  have  brought  out.2  It 
was  so  delightful  to  have  one's  Philosophe  Theorem  demon- 
strated, crowned  in  the  saloons  :  and  now  an  infatuated 
people  will  not  continue  speculative,  but  have  Practice  ! 

There  also  observe  Preceptress  Genlis,  or  Sillery,  or  Sillery- 
Genlis, — for  our  husband  is  both  Count  and  Marquis,  and  we 
have  more  than  one  title.  Pretentious,  frothy  ;  a  puritan  yet 
creedless  ;  darkening  counsel  by  words  without  wisdom  ! 
For,  it  is  in  that  thin  element  of  the  Sentimentalist  and 
Distinguished-Female  that  Sillery-Genlis  works  ;  she  would 
gladly  be  sincere,  yet  can  grow  no  sincerer  than  sincere-cant  : 
sincere-cant  of  many  forms,  ending  in  the  devotional  form. 
For  the  present,  on  a  neck  still  of  moderate  whiteness,  she 
wears  as  jewel  a  miniature  Bastille,  cut  on  mere  sandstone, 

1  Naigeon,  Adresse  a  FAssembUe  National*  (Paris,  1790),  sur  la  liberti  dtt 
opinions. 

*  See  Marmontel,  Mimoirest  passim ;  Morcllet,  Mknoirut  etc. 


1789-90]  JOURNALISM  25 

but  then  actual  Bastille  sandstone.  M.  le  Marquis  is  one  of 
D'Orleans's  errand-men ;  in  National  Assembly,  and  elsewhere. 
Madame,  for  her  part,  trains  up  a  youthful  D'Orleans  genera- 
tion in  what  superfinest  morality  one  can ;  gives  meanwhile 
rather  enigmatic  account  of  fair  Mademoiselle  Pamela,  the 
Daughter  whom  she  has  adopted.  Thus  she,  in  Palais-Royal 
Saloon ; — whither,  we  remark,  D'Orleans  himself,  spite  of 
Lafayette,  has  returned  from  that  English  *  mission '  of  his : 
surely  no  pleasant  mission :  for  the  English  would  not  speak 
to  him ;  and  Saint  Hannah  More  of  England,  so  unlike  Saint 
Sillery-Genlis  of  France,  saw  him  shunned,  in  Vauxhall  Gardens, 
like  one  peststruck,1  and  his  red-blue  impassive  visage  waxing 
hardly  a  shade  bluer. 


CHAPTER    IV 
JOURNALISM 

As  for  Constitutionalism,  with  its  National  Guards,  it  is 
doing  what  it  can ;  and  has  enough  to  do  :  it  must,  as  ever, 
with  one  hand  wave  persuasively,  repressing  Patriotism  ;  and 
keep  the  other  clenched  to  menace  Royalist  plotters.  A  most 
delicate  task  ;  requiring  tact. 

Thus,  if  People  Vfri end  Marat  has  today  his  writ  of  *  prise 
de  corps,  or  seizure  of  body,'  served  on  him,  and  dives  out  of 
sight,  tomorrow  he  is  left  at  large ;  or  is  even  encouraged,  as 
a  sort  of  bandog  whose  baying  may  be  useful.  President 
Danton,  in  open  Hall,  with  reverberating  voice,  declares  that, 
in  a  case  like  Marat's,  *  force  may  be  resisted  by  force.' 
Whereupon  the  Chatelet  serves  Danton  also  with  a  writ ; — 
which  however,  as  the  whole  Cordeliers  District  responds  to 
it,  what  Constable  will  be  prompt  to  execute  ?  Twice  more, 
on  new  occasions,  does  the  Chatelet  launch  its  writ ;  and 
twice  more  in  vain  :  the  body  of  Danton  cannot  be  seized  by 

1  Hannah  More's  Life  and  Correspondence,  ii.  c.  5. 


26  THE    FEAST    OF    PIKES     [BK.  I.  CH.  iv. 

Chatelet ;  he  unseized,  should  he  even  fly  for  a  season,  shall 
behold  the  Chatelet  itself  flung  into  limbo. 

Municipality  and  Brissot,  meanwhile,  are  far  on  with  their 
Municipal  Constitution.  The  Sixty  Districts  shall  become 
Forty-eight  Sections ;  much  shall  be  adjusted,  and  Paris  have 
its  Constitution.  A  Constitution  wholly  Elective  ;  as  indeed 
all  French  Government  shall  and  must  be.  And  yet,  one 
fatal  element  has  been  introduced  :  that  of  citoyen  actif.  No 
man  who  does  not  pay  the  marc  (Targent,  or  yearly  tax  equal 
to  three-days  labour,  shall  be  other  than  a  passive  citizen  : 
not  the  slightest  vote  for  him  ;  were  he  acting,  all  the  year 
round,  with  sledge-hammer,  with  forest-levelling  axe  !  Un- 
heard of!  cry  Patriot  Journals.  Yes  truly,  my  Patriot 
Friends,  if  Liberty,  the  passion  and  prayer  of  all  men's  souls, 
means  Liberty  to  send  your  fifty-thousandth  part  of  a  new 
Tongue-fencer  into  National  Debating-club,  then,  be  the  gods 
witness,  ye  are  hardly  entreated.  O,  if  in  National  Palaver 
(as  the  Africans  name  it),  such  blessedness  is  verily  found, 
what  tyrant  would  deny  it  to  Son  of  Adam  !  Nay,  might 
there  not  be  a  Female  Parliament  too,  with  '  screams  from 
the  Opposition  benches,"*  and  *  the  honourable  Member  borne 
out  in  hysterics '  ?  To  a  Children's  Parliament  would  I  gladly 
consent ;  or  even  lower  if  ye  wished  it.  Beloved  Brothers  ! 
Liberty,  one  may  fear,  is  actually,  as  the  ancient  wise  men 
said,  of  Heaven.  On  this  Earth,  where,  thinks  the  enlight- 
ened public,  did  a  brave  little  Dame  de  Staal  (not  Necker's 
Daughter,  but  a  far  shrewder  than  she)  find  the  nearest 
approach  to  Liberty  ?  After  mature  computation,  cool  as 
Dilworth's,  her  answer  is,  In  the  Bastille.1  ( Of  Heaven  ? ' 
answer  many,  asking.  Wo  that  they  should  ask  ;  for  that  is 
the  very  misery  !  *  Of  Heaven '  means  much  ;  «hare  in  the 
National  Palaver  it  may,  or  may  as  probably  not  mean. 

One  Sansculottic  bough  that  cannot  fail  to  flourish  is 
Journalism.  The  voice  of  the  People  being-  the  voice  of  God, 
ghall  not  such  divine  voice  make  itself  heard  ?  To  the  ends 
1  De  Staal,  Mfmoires  (Paris,  1821),  i.  169-280. 


1789-90]  JOURNALISM  27 

of  France ;  and  in  as  many  dialects  as  when  the  Jirst  great 
Babel  was  to  be  built !  Some  loud  as  the  lion ;  some  small 
as  the  sucking  dove.  Mirabeau  himself  has  his  instructive 
Journal  or  Journals,  with  Geneva  hodmen  working  in  them  ; 
and  withal  has  quarrels  enough  with  Dame  le  Jay,  his  Female 
Bookseller,  so  ultra-compliant  otherwise.1 

Kings-friend  Royou  still  prints  himself.  Barrere  sheds 
tears  of  loyal  sensibility  in  Bredk-of-Day  Journal,  though 
with  declining  sale.  But  why  is  Freron  so  hot,  democratic ; 
Fre'ron,  the  King's-friend's  Nephew  ?  He  has  it  by  kind,  that 
heat  of  his  :  wasp  Freron  begot  him  ;  Voltaire's  Frtlon ;  who 
fought  stinging,  while  sting  and  poison-bag  were  left,  were  it 
only  as  Reviewer,  and  over  Printed  Waste-paper.  Constant, 
illuminative,  as  the  nightly  lamplighter,  issues  the  useful 
Moniteur,  for  it  is  now  become  diurnal :  with  facts  and  few 
commentaries ;  official,  safe  in  the  middle  ; — its  Able  Editors 
sunk  long  since,  recoverably  or  irrecoverably,  in  deep  dark- 
ness. Acid  Loustalot,  with  his  *  vigour,'  as  of  young 
sloes,  shall  never  ripen,  but  die  untimely :  his  Prudhomme, 
however,  will  not  let  that  Revolutions  de  Paris  die ;  but  edit 
it  himself,  with  much  else, — dull-blustering  Printer  though 
he  be. 

Of  Cassandra-Marat  we  have  spoken  often ;  yet  the  most 
surprising  truth  remains  to  be  spoken  :  that  he  actually  does 
not  want  sense ;  but,  with  croaking  gelid  throat,  croaks  out 
masses  of  the  truth,  on  several  things.  Nay  sometimes,  one 
might  almost  fancy  he  had  a  perception  of  humour,  and  were 
laughing  a  little,  far  down  in  his  inner  man.  Camilla  is 
wittier  than  ever,  and  more  outspoken,  cynical ;  yet  sunny  as 
ever.  A  light  melodious  creature;  'born,'  as  he  shall  yet  say 
with  bitter  tears,  'to  write  verses';  light  Apollo,  so  clear, 
soft-lucent,  in  this  war  of  the  Titans,  wherein  he  shall  not 
conquer ! 

Folded  and  hawked  Newspapers  exist  in  all  countries ;  but, 
in  such  a  Journalistic  element  as  this  of  France,  other  and 

1  Dumont,  Souvenirs,  6. 


28  THE    FEAST    OF    PIKES     [BK.  I.  CH.  iv. 

stranger  sorts  are  to  be  anticipated.  What  says  the  English 
reader  to  a  Journal-  Afficlie,  Placard  Journal ;  legible  to  him 
th^t  has  no  halfpenny;  in  bright  prismatic  colours,  calling 
the  eye  from  afar?  Such,  in  the  coming  months,  as  Patriot 
Associations,  public  and  private,  advance,  and  can  subscribe 
funds,  shall  plenteously  hang  themselves  out  :  leaves,  limed 
leaves,  to  catch  what  they  can  !  The  very  Government  shall 
have  its  Pasted  Journal ;  Louvet,  busy  yet  with  a  new 
'  charming  romance,'  shall  write  Sentinelles,  and  post  them 
with  effect ;  nay  Bertrand  de  Moleville,  in  his  extremity,  shall 
still  more  cunningly  try  it.1  Great  is  Journalism.  Is  not 
every  Able  Editor  a  Ruler  of  the  World,  being  a  persuader 
of  it ;  though  self-elected,  yet  sanctioned,  by  the  sale  of  his 
Numbers  ?  Whom  indeed  the  world  has  the  readiest  method 
of  deposing,  should  need  be  :  that  of  merely  doing  nothing  to 
him  ;  which  ends  in  starvation. 

Nor  esteem  it  small  what  those  Bill-stickers  had  to  do  in 
Paris :  above  Threescore  of  them :  all  with  their  crosspoles, 
haversacks,  pastepots ;  nay  with  leaden  badges,  for  the  Muni- 
cipality licenses  them.  A  Sacred  College,  properly  of  World- 
rulers'"  Heralds,  though  not  respected  as  such  in  an  Era  still 
incipient  and  raw.  They  made  the  walls  of  Paris  didactic, 
suasive,  with  an  ever-fresh  Periodical  Literature,  wherein  he 
that  ran  might  read :  Placard  Journals,  Placard  Lampoons, 
Municipal  Ordinances,  Royal  Proclamations  ;  the  whole  other 
or  vulgar  Placard-department  superadded, — or  omitted  from 
contempt !  What  unutterable  things  the  stone- walls  spoke, 
during  these  five  years  !  But  it  is  all  gone  ;  Today  swallow- 
ing Yesterday,  and  then  being  in  its  turn  swallowed  of  To- 
morrow, even  as  Speech  ever  is.  Nay  what,  O  thou  immortal 
Man  of  Letters,  is  Writing  itself  but  Speech  conserved  for  a 
time  ?  The  Placard  Journal  conserved  it  for  one  day  ;  some 
Books  conserve  it  for  the  matter  of  ten  years ;  nay  some  for 
three  thousand  :  but  what  then  ?  Why,  then,  the  years  being 
all  run,  it  also  dies,  and  the  world  is  rid  of  it.  O,  were  there 

1  See  Bertrand-Moleville,  Mf moires,  ii.  IOO,  etc. 


1789-90]  JOURNALISM  29 

not  a  spirit  in  the  word  of  man,  as  in  man  himself,  that 
survived  the  audible  bodied  word,  and  tended  either  godward 
or  else  devilward  for  evermore,  why  should  he  trouble  himself 
much  with  the  truth  of  it,  or  the  falsehood  of  it,  except  for 
commercial  purposes  ?  His  immortality  indeed,  and  whether 
it  shall  last  half  a  lifetime  or  a  lifetime  and  half;  is  not  that 
a  very  considerable  thing  ?  Immortality,  mortality  : — there 
were  certain  runaways  whom  Fritz  the  Great  bullied  back  into 
the  battle  with  a :  *  R — ,  wottt  ihr  eung  leben.  Unprintable 
Offscouring  of  Scoundrels,  would  ye  live  for  ever ! ' 

This  is  the  Communication  of  Thought ;  how  happy  when 
there  is  any  Thought  to  communicate  !  Neither  let  the 
simpler  old  methods  be  neglected,  in  their  sphere.  The 
Palais-Royal  Tent,  a  tyrannous  Patrollotism  has  removed; 
but  can  it  remove  the  lungs  of  man  ?  Anaxagoras  Chaumette 
we  saw  mounted  on  bourne-stones,  while  Tallien  worked 
sedentary  at  the  sub-editorial  desk.  In  any  corner  of  the 
civilised  world,  a  tub  can  be  inverted,  and  an  articulate- 
speaking  biped  mount  thereon.  Nay,  with  contrivance,  a 
portable  trestle,  or  folding-stool,  can  be  procured,  for  love  or 
money ;  this  the  peripatetic  Orator  can  take  in  his  hand,  and, 
driven  out  here,  set  it  up  again  there :  saying  mildly,  with  a 
Sage  Bias,  Omnia  mea  mecum  porto. 

Such  is  Journalism,  hawked,  pasted,  spoken.  How  changed 
since  One  old  Metra  walked  this  same  Tuileries  Garden,  in 
gilt  cocked-hat,  with  Journal  at  his  nose,  or  held  loose-folded 
behind  his  back  ;  and  was  a  notability  of  Paris,  *  Me'tra  the 
Newsman V  and  Louis  himself  was  wont  to  say:  Qiten  dit 
Mktra  f  Since  the  first  Venetian  News-sheet  was  sold  for  a 
gazza,  or  farthing,  and  named  Gazette  !  We  live  in  a  fertile 
world. 

1  Dulaure,  Histrir*  dt  Paris,  Tiii.  483  ;  Mercier,  Nouveau  Paris,  etc. 


80          THE    FEAST    OF   PIKES       [BK.  I.  CH.  v. 
CHAPTER   V 

CLUBBISM 

WHERE  the  heart  is  full,  it  seeks,  for  a  thousand  reasons, 
in  a  thousand  ways,  to  impart  itself.  How  sweet,  indispen- 
sable, in  such  cases,  is  fellowship ;  soul  mystically  strength- 
ening soul !  The  meditative  Germans,  some  think,  have  been 
of  opinion  that  Enthusiasm  in  general  means  simply  excessive 
Congregating — Schwarmerey,  or  Swarming.  At  any  rate,  do 
we  not  see  glimmering  half-red  embers,  if  laid  together,  get 
into  the  brightest  white  glow  ? 

In  such  a  France,  gregarious  Reunions  will  needs  multiply, 
intensify;  French  Life  will  step  out  of  doors,  and,  from 
domestic,  become  a  public  Club  Life.  Old  Clubs,  which 
already  germinated,  grow  and  flourish ;  new  everywhere  bud 
forth.  It  is  the  sure  symptom  of  Social  Unrest :  in  such  way, 
most  infallibly  of  all,  does  Social  Unrest  exhibit  itself;  find 
solacement,  and  also  nutriment.  In  every  French  head  there 
hangs  now,  whether  for  terror  or  for  hope,  some  prophetic 
picture  of  a  New  France :  prophecy  which  brings,  nay  which 
almost  is,  its  own  fulfilment ;  and  in  all  ways,  consciously  and 
unconsciously,  works  towards  that. 

Observe,  moreover,  how  the  Aggregative  Principle,  let  it 
be  but  deep  enough,  goes  on  aggregating,  and  this  even  in  a 
geometrical  progression ;  how  when  the  whole  world,  in  such 
a  plastic  time,  is  forming  itself  into  Clubs,  some  One  Club, 
the  strongest  or  luckiest,  shall  by  friendly  attracting,  by 
victorious  compelling,  grow  ever  stronger,  till  it  become 
immeasurably  strong  ;  and  all  the  others,  with  their  strength, 
be  either  lovingly  absorbed  into  it,  or  hostilely  abolished  by 
it.  This  if  the  Club-spirit  is  universal ;  if  the  time  is  plastic. 
Plastic  enough  is  the  time,  universal  the  Club-spirit :  such  an 
all-absorbing,  paramount  One  Club  cannot  be  wanting. 

What  a  progress,  since  the  first  salient-point  of  the  Breton 


1789-90]  CLUBBISM  81 

Committee  !  It  worked  long  in  secret,  not  languidly ;  it  has 
come  with  the  National  Assembly  to  Paris  ;  calls  itself  Club ; 
calls  itself,  in  imitation,  as  is  thought,  of  those  generous  Price- 
Stanhope  English  who  sent  over  to  congratulate,  French 
Revolution  Club;  but  soon,  with  more  originality,  Club  of 
Friends  of  the  Constitution.  Moreover  it  has  leased  for  itself, 
at  a  fair  rent,  the  Hall  of  the  Jacobins  Convent,  one  of  our 
'superfluous  edifices'";  and  does  therefrom  now,  in  these  spring 
months,  begin  shining  out  on  an  admiring  Paris.  And  so, 
by  degrees,  under  the  shorter  popular  title  of  Jacobins  Club, 
it  shall  become  memorable  to  all  times  and  lands.  Glance 
into  the  interior :  strongly  yet  modestly  benched  and  seated  ; 
as  many  as  Thirteen  Hundred  chosen  Patriots ;  Assembly 
Members  not  a  few.  Barnave,  the  two  Lameths  are  seen 
there ;  occasionally  Mirabeau,  perpetually  Robespierre ;  also 
the  ferret-visage  of  Fouquier-Tinville  with  other  attorneys ; 
Anacharsis  of  Prussian  Scythia,  and  miscellaneous  Patriots, — 
though  all  is  yet  in  the  most  perfectly  clean-washed  state ; 
decent,  nay  dignified.  President  on  platform,  President's 
bell  are  not  wanting;  oratorical  Tribune  high-raised;  nor 
strangers'  galleries,  wherein  also  sit  women.  Has  any  French 
Antiquarian  Society  preserved  that  written  Lease  of  the 
Jacobins  Convent  Hall  ?  Or  was  it,  unluckier  even  than 
Magna  Charta,  dipt  by  sacrilegious  Tailors?  Universal 
History  is  not  indifferent  to  it. 

These  Friends  of  the  Constitution  have  met  mainly,  as 
their  name  may  foreshadow,  to  look  after  Elections  when  an 
Election  comes,  and  procure  fit  men  :  but  likewise  to  consult 
generally  that  the  Commonweal  take  no  damage ;  one  as  yet 
sees  not  how.  For  indeed  let  two  or  three  gather  together 
anywhere,  if  it  be  not  in  Church,  where  all  are  bound  to  the 
passive  state ;  no  mortal  can  say  accurately,  themselves  as 
little  as  any,  for  what  they  are  gathered.  How  often  has  the 
broachel  barrel  proved  not  to  be  for  joy  and  heart-effusion, 
but  for  duel  and  head-breakage ;  and  the  promised  feast 


32  THE    FEAST    OF    PIKES      [BK.  i.  CH.  v. 

become  a  Feast  of  the  Lapithae  !  This  Jacobins  Club,  which  at 
first  shone  resplendent,  and  was  thought  to  be  a  new  celestial 
Sun  for  enlightening  the  Nations,  had,  as  things  all  have,  to 
work  through  its  appointed  phases :  it  burned  unfortunately 
more  and  more  lurid,  more  sulphurous,  distracted  ; — and  swam 
at  last,  through  the  astonished  Heaven,  like  a  Tartarean 
Portent,  and  lurid-burning  Prison  of  Spirits  in  Pain. 

Its  style  of  eloquence?  Rejoice,  Reader,  that  thou  knowest 
it  not,  that  thou  canst  never  perfectly  know.  The  Jacobins 
published  a  Journal  of  Debates,  where  they  that  have  the 
heart  may  examine :  impassioned,  dull-droning  Patriotic 
eloquence ;  implacable,  unfertile — save  for  Destruction,  which 
was  indeed  its  work :  most  wearisome,  though  most  deadly. 
Be  thankful  that  Oblivion  covers  so  much ;  that  all  carrion  is 
by  and  by  buried  hi  the  green  Earth's  bosom,  and  even  makes 
her  grow  the  greener.  The  Jacobins  are  buried ;  but  their 
work  is  not ;  it  continues  '  making  the  tour  of  the  world,1  as 
it  can.  It  might  be  seen  lately,  for  instance,  with  bared 
bosom  and  death-defiant  eye,  as  far  on  as  Greek  Missolonghi ; 
strange  enough,  old  slumbering  Hellas  was  resuscitated,  into 
somnambulism  which  will  become  clear  wakefulness,  by  a  voice 
from  the  Rue  St.  Honore  !  All  dies,  as  we  often  say ;  except 
the  spirit  of  man,  of  what  man  does.  Thus  has  not  the  very 
House  of  the  Jacobins  vanished :  scarcely  lingering  in  a  few 
old  men's  memories  ?  The  St.  Honore  Market  has  brushed  it 
away,  and  now  where  dull-droning  eloquence,  like  a  Trump  of 
Doom,  once  shook  the  world,  there  is  pacific  chaffering  for 
poultry  and  greens.  The  sacred  National  Assembly  Hall 
itself  has  become  common  ground  ;  President's  platform  per- 
meable to  wain  and  dustcart ;  for  the  Rue  de  Rivoli  runs 
there.  Verily,  at  Cockcrow  (of  this  Cock  or  the  other),  all 
Apparitions  do  melt  and  dissolve  in  space. 

The  Paris  Jacobins  became  the  *  Mother  Society,  Societt 
Mere ' ;  and  had  as  many  as  *  three  hundred '  shrill-tongued 
daughters  in  <  direct  correspondence '  with  her.  Of  indirectly 
corresponding,  what  we  may  call  grand-daughters  and  minute 


1789-90]  CLUBBISM  83 

progeny,  she  counted  '  forty-four  thousand  *  ! — But  for  the 
present  we  note  only  two  things :  the  first  of  them  a  mere 
anecdote.  One  night,  a  couple  of  Brother  Jacobins  are  door- 
keepers ;  for  the  members  take  this  post  of  duty  and  honour 
in  rotation,  and  admit  none  that  have  not  tickets  one  door- 
keeper was  the  worthy  Sieur  Lais,  a  patriotic  Opera-singer, 
stricken  in  years,  whose  windpipe  is  long  since  closed  without 
result;  the  other,  young,  and  named  Louis  Philippe,  D'Orleans's 
firstborn,  has  in  this  lattei  time,  after  unheard-of  destinies, 
become  Citizen-King,  and  struggles  to  rule  for  a  season.  All 
flesh  is  grass ;  higher  reedgrass,  or  creeping  herb. 

The  second  thing  we  have  to  note  is  historical :  that  the 
Mother  Society,  even  in  this  its  effulgent  period,  cannot 
content  all  Patriots.  Already  it  must  throw  off,  so  to  speak, 
two  dissatisfied  swarms;  a  swarm  to  the  right,  a  swarm  to  the 
left.  One  party,  which  thinks  the  Jacobins  lukewarm,  consti- 
tutes itself  into  Club  of  the  Cordeliers ;  a  hotter  Club  :  it  is 
Danton's  element ;  with  whom  goes  Desmoulins.  The  other 
party,  again,  which  thinks  the  Jacobins  scalding-hot,  flies  off 
to  the  right,  and  becomes  *  Club  of  1789,  Friends  of  the 
Monarchic  Constitution.  They  are  afterwards  named  'Feuttlans 
Club  * ;  their  place  of  meeting  being  the  Feuillans  Convent. 
Lafayette  is,  or  becomes,  their  chief  man ;  supported  by  the 
respectable  Patriot  everywhere,  by  the  mass  of  Property  and 
Intelligence, — with  the  most  flourishing  prospects.  They,  in 
these  June  days  of  1790,  do,  in  the  Palais  Royal,  dine 
solemnly  with  open  windows ;  to  the  cheers  of  the  people ; 
with  toasts,  with  inspiriting  songs, — with  one  song  at  least, 
among  the  feeblest  ever  sung.1  They  shall,  in  due  time,  be 
hooted  forth,  over  the  borders,  into  Cimmerian  Night. 

Another  expressly  Monarchic  or  Royalist  Club,  *  Club  des 
Monarchiens?  though  a  Club  of  ample  funds,  and  all  sitting 
on  damask  sofas,  cannot  realise  the  smallest  momentary  cheer : 
realises  only  scoffs  and  groans ; — till,  ere  long,  certain 
Patriots  in  disorderly  sufficient  number,  proceed  thither,  for  a 

1  Hist.  Parl.  vi.  334. 

VOL.  n.  'c 


34  THE    FEAST    OF    PIKES     [BK.  I.  CH.  VL 

night  or  for  nights,  and  groan  it  out  of  pain.  Vivacious  alone 
shall  the  Mother  Society  and  her  family  be.  The  very  Corde- 
liers may,  as  it  were,  return  into  her  bosom,  which  will  have 
grown  warm  enough. 

Fatal-looking !  Are  not  such  Societies  an  incipient  New 
Order  of  Society  itself?  The  Aggregative  Principle  anew  at 
work  in  a  Society  grown  obsolete,  cracked  asunder,  dissolving 
into  rubbish  and  primary  atoms  ? 


CHAPTER    VI 
JE   LE   JURE 

WITH  these  signs  of  the  times,  is  it  not  surprising  that  the 
dominant  feeling  all  over  France  was  still  continually  Hope  ? 
O  blessed  Hope,  sole  boon  of  man  :  whereby,  on  his  strait 
prison- walls,  are  painted  beautiful  far-stretching  landscapes ; 
and  into  the  night  of  very  Death  is  shed  holiest  dawn  !  Thou 
art  to  all  an  indefeasible  possession  hi  this  God's- world ;  to 
the  wise  a  sacred  ConstantineVbanner,  written  on  the  eternal 
skies ;  under  which  they  sliall  conquer,  for  the  battle  itself  is 
victory :  to  the  foolish  some  secular  mirage,  or  shadow  of  still 
waters,  painted  on  the  parched  Earth ;  whereby  at  least  their 
dusty  pilgrimage,  if  devious,  becomes  cheerfuler,  becomes 
possible. 

In  the  death  tumults  of  a  sinking  Society,  French  Hope 
sees  only  the  birth-struggles  of  a  new  unspeakably  better 
Society;  and  sings,  with  full  assurance  of  faith,  her  brisk 
Melody,  which  some  inspired  fiddler  has  in  these  very  days 
composed  for  her, — the  world-famous  ^a-ira.  Yes;  'that 
will  go ' :  and  then  there  will  come  — ?  All  men  hope  ;  even 
Marat  hopes — that  Patriotism  will  take  muff  and  dirk.  King 
Louis  is  not  without  hope :  in  the  chapter  of  chances ;  in  a 
flight  to  some  Bouille ;  in  getting  popularised  at  Paris.  But 
what  a  hoping  People  he  had,  judge  by  the  fact,  and  series  of 
facts,  now  to  be  noted. 


1789-90]  JE    LE    JURE  35 

Poor  Louis,  meaning  the  best,  with  little  insight  and  even 
less  determination  of  his  own,  has  to  follow,  in  that  dim  way- 
faring of  his,  such  signal  as  may  be  given  him  ;  by  backstairs 
Royalism,  by  official  or  backstairs  Constitutionalism,  whichever 
for  the  month  may  have  convinced  the  royal  mind.  If  flight 
to  Bouille,  and  (horrible  to  think !)  a  drawing  of  the  civil 
sword  do  hang  as  theory,  portentous  in  the  background,  much 
nearer  is  this  fact  of  these  Twelve  Hundred  Kings,  who  sit  in 
the  SaUe  de  Manege.  Kings  uncontrollable  by  him,  not  yet 
irreverent  to  him.  Could  kind  management  of  these  but 
prosper,  how  much  better  were  it  than  armed  Emigrants, 
Turin  intrigues,  and  the  help  of  Austria !  Nay  are  the  two 
hopes  inconsistent  ?  Rides  in  the  suburbs,  we  have  found, 
cost  little ;  yet  they  always  brought  vivais.1  Still  cheaper  is 
a  soft  word ;  such  as  has  many  times  turned  away  wrath.  In 
these  rapid  days,  while  France  is  all  getting  divided  into 
Departments,  Clergy  about  to  be  remodelled,  Popular 
Societies  rising,  and  Feudalism  and  so  much  else  is  ready  to 
be  hurled  into  the  melting-pot, — might  not  one  try  ? 

On  the  4th  of  February,  accordingly,  M.  le  President  reads 
to  his  National  Assembly  a  short  autograph,  announcing  that 
his  Majesty  will  step  over,  quite  in  an  unceremonious  way,  pro- 
bably about  noon.  Think,  therefore,  Messieurs,  what  it  may 
mean ;  especially,  how  ye  will  get  the  Hall  decorated  a  little. 
The  Secretaries'*  Bureau  can  be  shifted  down  from  the  plat- 
form ;  on  the  President's  chair  be  slipped  this  cover  of  velvet, 
'of  a  violet  colour  sprigged  with  gold  fleur-de-lys'; — for 
indeed  M.  le  President  has  had  previous  notice  underhand,  and 
taken  counsel  with  Doctor  Guillotin.  Then  some  fraction  of 
'velvet  carpet,'  of  like  texture  and  colour,  cannot  that  be 
spread  in  front  of  the  chair,  where  the  Secretaries  usually  sit  ? 
So  has  judicious  Guillotin  advised  :  and  the  effect  is  found 
satisfactory.  Moreover,  as  it  is  probable  that  his  Majesty,  in 
spite  of  the  fleur-de-lys  velvet,  will  stand  and  not  sit  at  all, 
the  President  himself,  in  the  interim,  presides  standing.  And 
1  See  Bertrand-Moleville,  i.  241,  etc. 


36  THE    FEAST    OF    PIKES     [BK.  I.  CH.  vr, 

so,  while  some  honourable  Member  is  discussing,  say,  the  divi« 
sion  of  a  Department,  Ushers  announce :  '  His  Majesty  !'  In 
person,  with  small  suite,  enter  Majesty :  the  honourable 
Member  stops  short ,  the  Assembly  starts  to  its  feet :  the 
Twelve  Hundred  Kings  f  almost  all,'  and  the  Galleries  no  less,. 
do  welcome  the  Restorer  of  French  Liberty  with  loyal  shouts. 
His  Majesty's  Speech,  in  diluted  conventional  phraseologyr 
expresses  this  mainly  :  That  he,  most  of  all  Frenchmen,  rejoices 
to  see  France  getting  regenerated ;  is  sure,  at  the  same  time, 

•  that  they  will  deal  gently  with  her  in  the  process,  and  not 
regenerate  her  roughly.     Such  was  his  Majesty's  Speech :  the 
feat  he  performed  was  coming  to  speak  it,  and  going  back 
again. 

Surely,  except  to  a  very  hoping  People,  there  was  not  much 
here  to  build  upon.  Yet  what  did  they  not  build  !  The 
fact  that  the  King  has  spoken,  that  he  has  voluntarily  come 
to  speak,  how  inexpressibly  encouraging  !  Did  not  the  glance 
of  his  royal  countenance,  like  concentrated  sunbeams,  kindle 
all  hearts  in  an  august  Assembly ;  nay  thereby,  in  an  inflam- 

•  mable  enthusiastic  France  ?    To  move  '  Deputation  of  thanks ' 
can  be  the  happy  lot  of  but  one  man ;  to  go  in  such  Deputa- 
tion  the   lot   of  not  many.     The  Deputed   have  gone,  and 
returned   with  what    highest-flown    compliment  they   could ; 

•  whom  also  the  Queen  met,  Dauphin  in  hand.     And  still  do 
not  our  hearts  burn  with  insatiable  gratitude ;   and  to  one 
other  man  a  still  higher  blessedness  suggests  itself :  To  move 
that  we  all  renew  the  National  Oath. 

Happiest  honourable  Member,  with  his  word  so  in  season 
as  word  seldom  was ;  magic  Fugleman  of  a  whole  National 
Assembly,  which  sat  there  bursting  to  do  somewhat ;  Fugle- 
man of  a  whole  onlooking  France !  The  President  swears  ; 
declares  that  everyone  shall  swear,  in  distinct  je  le  jure.  Nay 
the  very  Gallery  sends  him  down  a  written  slip  signed,  with 
their  Oath  on  it ;  and  as  the  Assembly  now  casts  an  eye  that 
way,  the  Gallery  all  stands  up  and  swears  again.  And  then 
out  of  doors,  consider  at  the  H6tel-de-Ville  how  Bailly, 


FER4.I790]  JE    LE    JURE  87 

great  Tennis-Court  swearer,  again  swears,  towards  nightfall, 
with  all  the  Municipals,  and  Heads  of  Districts  assembled 
there.  And  *  M.  Danton  suggests  that  the  public  would  like 
to  partake  * :  whereupon  Bailly,  with  escort  of  Twelve,  steps 
forth  to  the  great  outer  staircase ;  sways  the  ebullient  multi- 
tude with  stretched  hand ;  takes  their  oath,  with  a  thunder 
of '  rolling  drums,'  with  shouts  that  rend  the  welkin.  And  on 
all  streets  the  glad  people,  with  moisture  and  fire  in  their  eyes, 
*  spontaneously  formed  groups,  and  swore  one  another,"1 1 — and 
the  whole  City  was  illuminated.  This  was  the  Fourth  of 
February  1790  :  a  day  to  be  marked  white  in  Constitutional 
annals. 

,  Nor  is  the  illumination  for  a  night  only,  but  partially  or 
totally  it  lasts  a  series  of  nights.  For  each  District,  the 
Electors  of  each  District  will  swear  specially ;  and  always  as 
the  District  swears,  it  illuminates  itself.  Behold  them,  Dis- 
trict after  District  in  some  open  square,  where  the  Non-Elect- 
ing People  can  all  see  and  join  :  with  their  uplifted  right- 
hands,  and  Je  le  jure ;  with  rolling  drums,  with  embracings, 
and  that  infinite  hurrah  of  the  enfranchised, — which  any 
tyrant  that  there  may  be  can  consider  !  Faithful  to  the  King, 
to  the  Law,  to  the  Constitution,  which  the  National  Assembly 
shall  make. 

Fancy,  for  example,  the  Professors  of  Universities  parading 
the  streets  with  their  young  France,  and  swearing,  in  an 
enthusiastic  manner,  not  without  tumult.  By  a  larger  exercise 
of  fancy,  expand  duly  this  little  word  :  The  like  was  repeated 
in  every  Town  and  District  in  France !  Nay  one  Patriot 
Mother  in  Lagnon  of  Brittany,  assembles  her  ten  children ; 
and,  with  her  own  aged  hand,  swears  them  all  herself,  the 
high-souled  venerable  woman.  Of  all  which,  moreover,  a 
National  Assembly  must  be  eloquently  apprised.  Such  three 
weeks  of  swearing  !  Saw  the  Sun  ever  such  a  swearing  people  ? 
Have  they  been  bit  by  a  swearing  tarantula  ?  No  :  but  they 
are  men  and  Frenchmen ;  they  have  Hope ;  and,  singular  to 

1  Newspapers  (in  Hist.  Part.  iv.  445). 


189980 


38          THE    FEAST    OF    PIKES     [BK.  I.  CH.  VII, 

say,  they  have  Faith,  were  it  only  in  the  Gospel  according  to 
Jean  Jacques.  O  my  Brothers,  would  to  Heaven  it  were  even 
as  ye  think,  and  have  sworn  !  But  there  are  Lover's  Oaths, 
which,  had  they  been  true  as  love  itself,  cannot  be  kept ;  not 
to  speak  of  Dicer's  Oaths,  also  a  known  sort. 


CHAPTER    VII 
PRODIGIES 

To  such  length  had  the  Contrat  Social  brought  it,  in 
believing  hearts.  Man,  as  is  well  said,  lives  by  faith ;  each 
generation  has  its  own  faith,  more  or  less ;  and  laughs  at  the 
faith  of  its  predecessor, — most  unwisely.  Grant  indeed  that 
this  faith  in  the  Social  Contract  belongs  to  the  stranger  sorts ; 
that  an  unborn  generation  may  very  wisely,  if  not  laugh,  yet 
stare  at  it,  and  piously  consider.  For,  alas,  what  is  Contrat  ? 
If  all  men  were  such  that  a  mere  spoken  or  sworn  Contract 
would  bind  them,  all  men  were  then  true  men,  and  Govern- 
ment a  superfluity.  Not  what  thou  and  I  have  promised  to 
each  other,  but  what  the  balance  of  our  forces  can  make  us 
perform  to  each  other :  that,  in  so  sinful  a  world  as  ours,  is 
the  thing  to  be  counted  on.  But  above  all,  a  People  and  a 
Sovereign  promising  to  one  another;  as  if  a  whole  People, 
changing  from  generation  to  generation,  nay  from  hour  to 
hour,  could  ever  by  any  method  be  made  to  speak  or  promise ; 
and  to  speak  mere  solecisms :  l  We,  be  the  Heavens  witness, 
which  Heavens,  however,  do  no  miracles  now ;  we,  ever- 
changing  Millions,  will  allow  thee,  changeful  Unit,  to  force  us 
or  govern  us ! '  The  world  has  perhaps  seen  few  faiths 
comparable  to  that. 

So  nevertheless  had  the  world  then  construed  the  matter, 
Had  they  not  so  construed  it,  how  different  had  their  hopes 
been,  their  attempts,  their  results  !  But  so  and  not  otherwise 
did  the  Upper  Powers  will  it  to  be.  Freedom  by  social 


1789-90]  PRODIGIES  39 

Contract :  such  was  verily  the  Gospel  of  that  Era,  And  all 
men  had  believed  in  it,  as  in  a  Heaven's  Glad-tidings  men 
should ;  and  with  overflowing  heart  and  uplifted  voice  clave 
to  it,  and  stood  fronting  Time  and  Eternity  on  it.  Nay 
smile  not ;  or  only  with  a  smile  sadder  than  tears  !  This  too 
was  a  better  faith  than  the  one  it  had  replaced ;  than  faith 
merely  in  the  Everlasting  Nothing  and  man's  Digestive 
Power ;  lower  than  which  no  faith  can  go. 

Not  that  such  universally  prevalent,  universally  jurant, 
feeling  of  Hope  could  be  a  unanimous  one.  Far  from  that. 
The  time  was  ominous :  social  dissolution  near  and  certain ; 
social  renovation  still  a  problem,  difficult  and  distant,  even 
though  sure.  But  if  ominous  to  some  clearest  onlooker, 
whose  faith  stood  not  with  the  one  side  or  with  the  other, 
nor  in  the  ever-vexed  jarring  of  Greek  with  Greek  at  all, — 
how  unspeakably  ominous  to  dim  Royalist  participators ;  for 
whom  Royalism  was  Mankind's  palladium ;  for  whom,  with 
the  abolition  of  Most-Christian  Kingship  and  Most-Talley- 
rand Bishopship,  all  loyal  obedience,  all  religious  faith  was  to 
expire,  and  final  Night  envelop  the  Destinies  of  Man  !  On 
serious  hearts,  of  that  persuasion,  the  matter  sinks  down 
deep ;  prompting,  as  we  have  seen,  to  backstairs  plots,  to 
Emigration  with  pledge  of  war,  to  Monarchic  Clubs ;  nay  to 
still  madder  things. 

The  Spirit  of  Prophecy,  for  instance,  had  been  considered 
extinct  for  some  centuries :  nevertheless  these  last-times,  as 
indeed  is  the  tendency  of  last-times,  do  revive  it ;  that  so,  of 
French  mad  things,  we  might  have  sample  also  of  the 
maddest.  In  remote  rural  districts,  whither  Philosophism 
has  not  yet  radiated,  where  a  heterodox  Constitution  of  the 
Clergy  is  bringing  strife  round  the  altar  itself,  and  the  very 
Church-bells  are  getting  melted  into  small  money-coin,  it 
appears  probable  that  the  End  of  the  World  cannot  be  far 
off.  Deep-musing  atrabiliar  old  men,  especially  old  women, 
hint  in  an  obscure  way  that  they  know  what  they  know.  The 


40          THE    FEAST    OF    PIKES     [BK.  i.  CH.  vn. 

Holy  Virgin,  silent  so  long,  has  not  gone  dumb ; — and  truly 
now,  if  ever  more  in  this  world,  were  the  time  for  her  to 
speak.  One  Prophetess,  though  careless  Historians  have 
omitted  her  name,  condition  and  whereabout,  becomes  audible 
to  the  general  ear ;  credible  to  not  a  few ;  credible  to  Friar 
Gerle,  poor  Patriot  Chartreux,  hi  the  National  Assembly 
itself!  She,  in  Pythoness  recitative,  with  wild-staring  eye, 
sings  that  there  shall  be  a  Sign ;  that  the  heavenly  Sun 
himself  will  hang  out  a  Sign,  or  Mock  Sun, — which,  many 
say,  shall  be  stamped  with  the  Head  of  hanged  Favras.  List, 
Dom  Gerle,  with  that  poor  addled  poll  of  thine ;  list,  O  list ; 
— and  hear  nothing.1 

Notable,  however,  was  that  '  magnetic  vellum,  velin  mag- 
netique,  of  the  Sieurs  d'Hozier  and  Petit-Jean,  Parlementeers 
of  Rouen.  Sweet  young  D'Hozier,  *  bred  in  the  faith  of  his 
Missal,  and  of  parchment  genealogies,'  and  of  parchment  gene- 
rally ;  adust,  melancholic,  middle-aged  Petit- Jean  :  why  came 
these  two  to  Saint- Cloud,  where  his  Majesty  was  hunting,  on 
the  festival  of  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul ;  and  waited  there,  in 
antechambers,  a  wonder  to  whispering  Swiss,  the  livelong  day ; 
and  even  waited  without  the  Grates,  when  turned  out ;  and 
had  dismissed  their  valets  to  Paris,  as  with  purpose  of  endless 
waiting  ?  They  have  a  magnetic  vellum,  these  two  ;  whereon 
the  Virgin,  wonderfully  clothing  herself  in  Mesmerean  Caglios- 
tric  Occult-Philosophy,  has  inspired  them  to  jot  down  in- 
structions and  predictions  for  a  much-straitened  King.  To 
whom,  by  Higher  Order,  they  will  this  day  present  it ;  and 
save  the  Monarchy  and  World.  Unaccountable  pah*  of 
visual-objects !  Ye  should  be  men,  and  of  the  Eighteenth 
Century ;  but  your  magnetic  vellum  forbids  us  so  to  interpret. 
Say,  are  ye  aught  ?  Thus  ask  the  Guard-house  Captains,  the 
Mayor  of  Saint-Cloud ;  nay,  at  great  length,  thus  asks  the 
Committee  of  Researches,  and  not  the  Municipal,  but  the 
National  Assembly  one.  No  distinct  answer,  for  weeks.  At 
last  it  becomes  plain  that  the  right  answer  is  negative.  Go,  ye 

1  Deux  Amis,  v.  7. 


789-90]    SOLEMN   LEAGUE   AND    COVENANT     41 

Chimeras,  with  your  magnetic  vellum ;  sweet  young  Chimera, 
adust  middle-aged  one !  The  Prison-doors  are  open.  Hardly 
again  shall  ye  preside  the  Rouen  Chamber  of  Accounts ;  but 
vanish  obscurely  into  Limbo.1 


CHAPTER    VIII 
SOLEMN   LEAGUE   AND   COVENANT 

SUCH  dim  masses,  and  specks  of  even  deepest  black,  work 
in  that  white-hot  glow  of  the  French  mind,  now  wholly  in 
fusion  and  confusion.  Old  women  here  swearing  their  ten 
children  on  the  new  Evangel  of  Jean  Jacques ;  old  women 
there  looking  up  for  Favras'  Heads  in  the  celestial  Luminary : 
these  are  preternatural  signs,  prefiguring  somewhat. 

In  fact,  to  the  Patriot  children  of  Hope  themselves  it  is 
undeniable  that  difficulties  exist :  emigrating  Seigneurs ; 
Parlements  in  sneaking  but  most  malicious  mutiny  (though 
the  rope  is  round  their  neck) ;  above  all,  the  most  decided 
*  deficiency  of  grains.'  Sorrowful ;  but,  to  a  Nation  that 
hopes,  not  irremediable.  To  a  Nation  which  is  in  fusion  and 
ardent  communion  of  thought ;  which,  for  example,  on  signal 
of  one  Fugleman,  will  lift  its  right-hand  like  a  drilled 
regiment,  and  swear  and  illuminate,  till  every  village  from 
Ardennes  to  the  Pyrenees  has  rolled  its  village-drum,  and  sent 
up  its  little  oath,  and  glimmer  of  tallow-illumination  some 
fathoms  into  the  reign  of  Night ! 

If  grains  are  defective,  the  fault  is  not  of  Nature  or 
National  Assembly,  but  of  Art  and  Anti-National  Intriguers. 
Such  malign  individuals,  of  the  scoundrel  species,  have  power 
to  vex  us,  while  the  Constitution  is  a-making.  Endure  it,  ye 
heroic  Patriots :  nay  rather,  why  not  cure  it  ?  Grains  do 
grow,  they  lie  extant  there  in  sheaf  or  sack;  only  that 
regraters  and  Royalist  plotters,  to  provoke  the  People  into 

1  See  Deux  Amis,  T.  199. 


42         THE    FEAST    OF    PIKES     [BK.  I.  CH.  vm. 

illegality,  obstruct  the  transport  of  grains.  Quick,  ye  organ- 
ised Patriot  Authorities,  armed  National  Guards,  meet  to- 
gether ;  unite  your  goodwill ;  in  union  is  tenfold  strength : 
let  the  concentred  flash  of  your  Patriotism  strike  stealthy 
Scoundrelism  blind,  paralytic,  as  with  a  coup  de  soleil. 

Under  which  hat  or  nightcap  of  the  Twenty-five  millions, 
this  pregnant  Idea  first  arose,  for  in  some  one  head  it  did 
rise,  no  man  can  now  say.  A  most  small  idea,  near  at  hand 
for  the  whole  world  :  but  a  living  one,  fit ;  and  which  waxed, 
whether  into  greatness  or  not,  into  immeasurable  size.  When 
a  Nation  is  in  this  state  that  the  Fugleman  can  operate  on  it, 
what  will  the  word  in  season,  the  act  in  season,  not  do  !  It 
will  grow  verily,  like  the  Boy's  Bean,  in  the  Fairy-Tale, 
heaven-high,  with  habitations  and  adventures  on  it,  in  one 
night.  It  is  nevertheless  unfortunately  still  a  Bean  (for  your 
long-lived  Oak  grows  not  so) ;  and  the  next  night,  it  may  lie 
felled,  horizontal,  trodden  into  common  mud. — But  remark, 
at  least,  how  natural  to  any  agitated  Nation,  which  has  Faith, 
this  business  of  Covenanting  is.  The  Scotch,  believing  in  a 
righteous  Heaven  above  them,  and  also  in  a  Gospel  far  other 
than  the  Jean-Jacques  one,  swore,  in  their  extreme  need,  a 
Solemn  League  and  Covenant, — as  Brothers  on  the  forlorn- 
hope,  and  imminence  of  battle,  who  embrace,  looking  god- 
ward  :  and  got  the  whole  Isle  to  swear  it ;  and  even,  in  their 
tough  Old-Saxon  Hebrew-Presbyterian  way,  to  keep  it  more 
or  less ; — for  the  thing,  as  such  things  are,  was  heard  in 
Heaven  and  partially  ratified  there  :  neither  is  it  yet  dead,  if 
thou  wilt  look,  nor  like  to  die.  The  French  too,  with  their 
Gallic-Ethnic  excitability  and  effervescence,  have,  as  we  have 
seen,  real  Faith,  of  a  sort ;  they  are  hard  bestead,  though  in 
the  middle  of  Hope  :  a  National  Solemn  League  and  Covenant 
there  may  be  in  France  too ;  under  how  different  conditions ; 
with  how  different  development  and  issue  ! 

Note,  accordingly,  the  small  commencement ;  first  spark  of 
a  mighty  firework  :  for  if  the  particular  hat  cannot  be  fixed 
upon,  the  particular  District  can.  On  the  29th  day  of  last 


1789-90]    SOLEMN   LEAGUE    AND    COVENANT     43 

November,  were  National  Guards  by  the  thousand  seen  filing, 
from  far  and  near,  with  military  music,  ^vith  Municipal  officers 
in  tricolor  sashes,  towards  and  along  the  Rhone-stream,  to 
the  little  town  of  Etoile.  There  with  ceremonial  evolution 
and  manoeuvre,  with  fanfaronading,  musketry  salvoes,  and 
what  else  the  Patriot  genius  could  devise,  they  made  oath  and 
obtestation  to  stand  faithfully  by  one  another,  under  Law  and 
King ;  hi  particular,  to  have  all  manner  of  grains,  while  grains 
there  were,  freely  circulated,  in  spite  both  of  robber  and 
regrater.  This  was  the  meeting  of  Etoile,  in  the  mild  end 
of  November  1789. 

But  now,  if  a  mere  empty  Review,  followed  by  Review- 
dinner,  ball,  and  such  gesticulation  and  flirtation  as  there  may 
be,  interests  the  happy  County-town,  and  makes  it  the  envy 
of  surrounding  County-towns,  how  much  more  might  this  ! 
In  a  fortnight,  larger  Montelimart,  half  ashamed  of  itself, 
will  do  as  good,  and  better.  On  the  Plain  of  Montelimart, 
or  what  is  equally  sonorous, 'under  the  Walls1  of  Montelimart, 
the  1 3th  of  December  sees  new  gathering  and  obtestation  ; 
six  thousand  strong ;  and  now  indeed,  with  these  three 
remarkable  improvements,  as  unanimously  resolved  on  there. 
First,  that  the  men  of  Montelimart  do  federate  with  the 
already  federated  men  of  Etoile.  Second,  that,  implying  not 
expressing  the  circulation  of  grain,  they  *  swear  in  the  face  of 
God  and  their  Country'  with  much  more  emphasis  and  com- 
prehensiveness, '  to  obey  all  decrees  of  the  National  Assembly, 
and  see  them  obeyed,  till  death,  jusqrfa  la  mart.''  Third, 
and  most  important,  that  official  record  of  all  this  be 
solemnly  delivered  in,  to  the  National  Assembly,  to  M.  de 
Lafayette,  and  *  to  the  Restorer  of  French  Liberty ' ;  who  shall 
all  take  what  comfort  from  it  they  can.  Thus  does  larger 
Montelimart  vindicate  its  Patriot  importance,  and  maintain 
its  rank  in  the  municipal  scale.1 

And  so,  with  the  New-year,  the  signal  is  hoisted  :  for  is  not 
a  National  Assembly,  and  solemn  deliverance  there,  at  lowest 
1  Hist.  Pearl,  vii.  4. 


44         THE    FEAST    OF    PIKES     [BK.  I.  CH. vm. 

a  National  Telegraph  ?  Not  only  grain  shall  circulate,  while 
there  is  grain,  on  highways  or  the  Rhone-waters,  over  all  that 
South-Eastern  region, — where  also  if  Monseigneur  cTArtois 
saw  good  to  break  in  from  Turin,  hot  welcome  might  await 
him ;  but  whatsoever  Province  of  France  is  straitened  for 
grain,  or  vexed  with  a  mutinous  Parlement,  unconstitutional 
plotters,  Monarchic  Clubs,  or  any  other  Patriot  ailment,  can 
go  and  do  likewise,  or  even  do  better.  And  now,  especially, 
when  the  February  swearing  has  set  them  all  agog !  From 
Brittany  to  Burgundy,  on  most  Plains  of  France,  under  most 
City-walls,  it  is  a  blaring  of  trumpets,  waving  of  banners,  a 
Constitutional  manoeuvering :  under  the  vernal  skies,  while 
Nature  too  is  putting  forth  her  green  Hopes,  under  bright 
sunshine  defaced  by  the  stonnful  East ;  like  Patriotism 
victorious,  though  with  difficulty,  over  Aristocracy  and  defect 
of  grain !  There  march  and  constitutionally  wheel,  to  the 
pa-ira-ing  mood  of  fife  and  drum,  under  their  tricolor 
Municipals,  our  clear-gleaming  Phalanxes ;  or  halt,  with 
uplifted  right-hand,  and  artillery  salvoes  that  imitate  Jove's 
thunder ;  and  all  the  Country,  and  metaphorically  all  *  the 
Universe,1  is  looking  on.  Wholly,  in  their  best  apparel,  brave 
men,  and  beautifully-dizened  women,  most  of  whom  have 
lovers  there ;  swearing,  by  the  eternal  Heavens,  and  this 
green-growing  all-nutritive  Earth,  that  France  is  free ! 

Sweetest  days,  when  (astonishing  to  say)  mortals  have 
actually  met  together  in  communion  and  fellowship  ;  and  man, 
were  it  only  once  through  long  despicable  centuries,  is  for 
moments  verily  the  brother  of  man  ! — And  then  the  Depu- 
tations to  the  National  Assembly,  with  high-flown  descriptive 
harangue;  to  M.  de  Lafayette,  and  the  Restorer;  very 
frequently  moreover  to  the  Mother  of  Patriotism,  sitting 
on  her  stout  benches  in  that  Hall  of  the  Jacobins  !  The 
general  ear  is  filled  with  Federation.  New  names  of  Patriots 
emerge,  which  shall  one  day  become  familiar  :  Boyer-Fonfrede 
eloquent  denunciator  of  a  rebellious  Bordeaux  Parlement ;  Max 
Isnard  eloquent  reporter  of  the  Federation  of  Draguignan ; 


MAY  1790]    SOLEMN  LEAGUE   AND  COVENANT     45 

eloquent  pair,  separated  by  the  whole  breadth  of  France,  who 
are  nevertheless  to  meet.  Ever  wider  burns  the  flame  of  Feder- 
ation ;  ever  wider  and  also  brighter.  Thus  the  Brittany  and 
Anjou  brethren  mention  a  Fraternity  of  all  true  Frenchmen ; 
and  go  the  length  of  invoking  *  perdition  and  death '  on  any 
renegade  :  moreover,  if  in  their  National- Assembly  harangue, 
they  glance  plaintively  at  the  marc  cTargent  which  makes  so 
many  citizens  passive,  they,  over  in  the  Mother-Society,  ask, 
being  henceforth  themselves  *  neither  Bretons  nor  Angevins  but 
French,'  Why  all  France  has  not  one  Federation,  and  universal 
Oath  of  Brotherhood,  once  for  all  ?  *  A  most  pertinent 
suggestion  ;  dating  from  the  end  of  March.  Which  pertinent 
suggestion  the  whole  Patriot  world  cannot  but  catch,  and  re- 
verberate and  agitate  till  it  become  loud ; — which  in  that  case 
the  Townhall  Municipals  had  better  take  up,  and  meditate. 

Some  universal  Federation  seems  inevitable :  the  Where  is 
given  ;  clearly  Paris  :  only  the  When,  the  How  ?  These  also 
productive  Time  will  give  ;  is  already  giving.  For  always  as 
the  Federative  work  goes  on,  it  perfects  itself,  and  Patriot 
genius  adds  contribution  after  contribution.  Thus,  at  Lyons, 
in  the  end  of  the  May  month,  we  behold  as  many  as  fifty,  or 
some  say  sixty  thousand,  met  to  federate ;  and  a  multitude 
looking  on,  which  it  would  be  difficult  to  number.  From 
dawn  to  dusk  !  For  our  Lyons  Guardsmen  took  rank,  at  five 
in  the  bright  dewy  morning ;  came  pouring  in,  bright- 
gleaming,  to  the  Quai  de  Rhone,  to  march  thence  to  the 
Federation-field ;  amid  wavings  of  hats  and  lady-handker- 
chiefs ;  glad  shoutings  of  some  two  hundred  thousand  Patriot 
voices  and  hearts ;  the  beautiful  and  brave  !  Among  whom, 
courting  no  notice,  and  yet  the  notablest  of  all,  what  queen- 
like  Figure  is  this ;  with  her  escort  of  house-friends  and 
Champagneux  the  Patriot  Editor;  come  abroad  with  the 
earliest  ?  Radiant  with  enthusiasm  are  those  dark  eyes,  is 
that  strong  Minerva-face,  looking  dignity  and  earnest  joy ; 
joyfulest  she  where  all  are  joyful.  It  is  Roland  de  la 
1  Reports,  etc.  (in  Hist.  Pearl,  ix.  122-147). 


46         THE    FEAST    OF    PIKES     [BK.  i.  CH.  VIIL 

Platriere's  Wife  I1  Strict  elderly  Roland,  King's  Inspector 
of  Manufactures  here ;  and  now  likewise,  by  popular  choice, 
the  strictest  of  our  new  Lyons  Municipals :  a  man  who  has 
gained  much,  if  worth  and  faculty  be  gain ;  but,  above  all 
things,  has  gained  to  wife  Phlipon  the  Paris  Engraver's 
daughter.  Reader,  mark  that  queenlike  burgher-woman : 
beautiful,  Amazonian-graceful  to  the  eye ;  more  so  to  the 
mind.  Unconscious  of  her  worth  (as  all  worth  is),  of  her 
greatness,  of  her  crystal  clearness  ;  genuine,  the  creature  of 
Sincerity  and  Nature,  in  an  age  of  Artificiality,  Pollution  and 
Cant ;  there,  in  her  still  completeness,  in  her  still  invinci- 
bility, she,  if  thou  knew  it,  is  the  noblest  of  all  living  French- 
women,— and  will  be  seen,  one  day.  O,  blessed  rather  while 
wwseen,  even  of  herself !  For  the  present  she  gazes,  nothing 
doubting,  into  this  grand  theatricality ;  and  thinks  her  young 
dreams  arc  to  be  fulfilled. 

From  dawn  to  dusk,  as  we  said,  it  lasts ;  and  truly  a  sight 
like  few.  Flourishes  of  drums  and  trumpets  are  something : 
but  think  of  an  *  artificial  Rock  fifty  feet  high,1  all  cut  into 
crag-steps,  not  without  the  similitude  of  ( shrubs ' !  The 
interior  cavity, — for  in  sooth  it  is  made  of  deal, — stands 
solemn,  a  '  Temple  of  Concord ' :  on  the  outer  summit  rises 
'  a  Statue  of  Liberty,'  colossal,  seen  for  miles,  with  her  Pike 
and  Phrygian  Cap,  and  civic  column ;  at  her  feet  a  Country's 
Altar,  *  Autel  de  la  Patrie ' : — on  all  which  neither  deal-timber 
nor  lath-and-plaster,  with  paint  of  various  colours,  have  been 
spared.  But  fancy  then  the  banners  all  placed  on  the  steps 
of  the  Rock ;  high-mass  chanted ;  and  the  civic  oath  of  fifty 
thousand  :  with  what  volcanic  outburst  of  sound  from  iron  and 
other  throats,  enough  to  frighten  back  the  very  Soane  and 
Rhone ;  and  how  the  brightest  fireworks,  and  balls,  and  even 
repasts  closed  in  that  night  of  the  gods  !2  And  so  the  Lyons 
Federation  vanishes  too,  swallowed  of  darkness  ; — and  yet  not 
wholly,  for  our  brave  fair  Roland  was  there ;  also  she,  though 

1  Madame  Roland,  Mimoires,  i.  (Discours  Pr£liminaire,  p.  23). 
a  Hist.  Parl.  xii.  274. 


1790]  SYMBOLIC  47 

in  the  deepest  privacy,  writes  her  Narrative  of  it  in  Champa- 
gneux's  Courrier  de  Lyons ;  a  piece  which  *  circulates  to  the 
extent  of  sixty  thousand ' ;  which  one  would  like  now  to  read. 
But  on  the  whole,  Paris,  we  may  see,  will  have  little  to 
devise ;  will  only  have  to  borrow  and  apply.  And  then  as  to 
the  day,  what  day  of  all  the  calendar  is  fit,  if  the  Bastille 
Anniversary  be  not  ?  The  particular  spot  too,  it  is  easy  to 
see,  must  be  the  Champ-de-Mars ;  where  many  a  Julian  the 
Apostate  has  been  lifted  on  bucklers,  to  France's  or  the 
world's  sovereignty ;  and  iron  Franks,  loud-clanging,  have 
responded  to  the  voice  of  a  Charlemagne ;  and  from  of  old 
mere  sublimities  have  been  familiar. 


CHAPTER    IX 
SYMBOLIC 

How  natural,  in  all  decisive  circumstances,  is  Symbolic  Repre- 
sentation to  all  kinds  of  men !  Nay,  what  is  man's  whole 
terrestrial  Life  but  a  Symbolic  Representation,  and  making 
visible,  of  the  Celestial  invisible  Force  that  is  in  him  ?  By 
act  and  word  he  strives  to  do  it ;  with  sincerity,  if  possible ; 
failing  that,  with  theatricality,  which  latter  also  may  have  its 
meaning.  An  Almacks  Masquerade  is  not  nothing ;  in  more 
genial  ages,  your  Christmas  Guisings,  Feasts  of  the  Ass, 
Abbots  of  Unreason,  were  a  considerable  something :  sincere 
sport  they  were ;  as  Almacks  may  still  be  sincere  wish  for 
sport  But  what,  on  the  other  hand,  must  not  sincere  earnest 
have  been ;  say,  a  Hebrew  Feast  of  Tabernacles  have  been ! 
A  whole  Nation  gathered,  in  the  name  of  the  Highest,  under 
the  eye  of  the  Highest ;  imagination  herself  flagging  under 
the  reality;  and  all  noblest  Ceremony  as  yet  not  grown 
ceremonial,  but  solemn,  significant  to  the  outmost  fringe ! 
Neither,  in  modern  private  life,  are  theatrical  scenes,  of  tearful 
women  wetting  whole  ells  of  cambric  in  concert,  of  impas- 


48          THE    FEAST    OF    PIKES      [BK.  I.  CH.  ix. 

sioned  bushy-whiskered  youth  threatening  suicide,  and  such- 
like, to  be  so  entirely  detested  :  drop  thou  a  tear  over  them 
thyself  rather. 

At  any  rate,  one  can  remark  that  no  Nation  will  throw- by 
its  work,  and  deliberately  go  out  to  make  a  scene,  without  mean- 
ing something  thereby.  For  indeed  no  scenic  individual,  with 
knavish  hypocritical  views,  will  take  the  trouble  to  soliloquise 
a  scene :  and  now  consider,  is  not  a  scenic  Nation  placed 
precisely  in  that  predicament  of  soliloquising;  for  its  own 
behoof  alone ;  to  solace  its  own  sensibilities,  maudlin  or  other  ? 
— Yet  in  this  respect,  of  readiness  for  scenes,  the  difference  of 
Nations,  as  of  men,  is  very  great.  If  our  Saxon  Puritanic 
friends,  for  example,  swore  and  signed  their  National  Covenant, 
without  discharge  of  gunpowder,  or  the  beating  of  any  drum, 
in  a  dingy  Covenant-Close  of  the  Edinburgh  High-Street,  in 
a  mean  room,  where  men  now  drink  mean  liquor,  it  was  con- 
sistent with  their  ways  so  to  swear  it.  Our  Gallic-Encyclo- 
pedic friends,  again,  must  have  a  Champ-de-Mars,  seen  of  all 
the  world,  or  universe  ;  and  such  a  Scenic  Exhibition,  to  which 
the  Coliseum  Amphitheatre  was  but  a  strollers'  barn,  as  this 
old  Globe  of  ours  had  never  or  hardly  ever  beheld.  Which 
method  also  we  reckon  natural,  then  and  there.  Nor  perhaps 
was  the  respective  keeping  of  these  two  Oaths  far  out  of  due 
proportion  to  such  respective  display  in  taking  them  :  inverse 
proportion,  namely.  For  the  theatricality  of  a  People  goes 
in  a  compound  ratio :  ratio  indeed  of  their  trustfulness,  socia- 
bility, fervency ;  but  then  also  of  their  excitability,  of  then* 
porosity,  not  continent ;  or  say,  of  their  explosiveness,  hot- 
flashing,  but  which  does  not  last. 

How  true  also,  once  more,  is  it  that  no  man  or  Nation  of 
men,  conscious  of  doing  a  great  thing,  was  ever,  in  that  thing, 
doing  other  than  a  small  one  !  O  Champ-de-Mars  Federation,, 
with  three  hundred  drummers,  twelve  hundred  wind-musicians, 
and  artillery  planted  on  height  after  height  to  boom  the 
tidings  of  it  all  over  France,  hi  few  minutes !  Could  na 
Atheist-Naigeon  contrive  to  discern,  eighteen  centuries  off, 


1790]  MANKIND  49 

those  Thirteen  most  poor  mean-dressed  men,  at  frugal  Supper, 
in  a  mean  Jewish  dwelling,  with  no  symbol  but  hearts  god- 
initiated  into  the  *  Divine  depth  of  Sorrow/  and  a  Do  this  in 
remembrance  of  me ; — and  so  cease  that  small  difficult  crowing 
of  his,  if  he  were  not  doomed  to  it  ? 


CHAPTER    X 
MANKIND 

PARDONABLE  are  human  theatricalities ;  nay,  perhaps  touch- 
ing, like  the  passionate  utterance  of  a  tongue  which  with 
sincerity  stammers ;  of  a  head  which  with  insincerity  babbles, 
— having  gone  distracted.  Yet,  in  comparison  with  unpre- 
meditated outbursts  of  Nature,  such  as  an  Insurrection  of 
Women,  how  foisonless,  unedifying,  undelightful ;  like  small 
ale  palled,  like  an  effervescence  that  has  effervesced !  Such 
scenes,  coming  of  forethought,  were  they  world-great,  and 
never  so  cunningly  devised,  are  at  bottom  mainly  pasteboard 
and  paint.  But  the  others  are  original ;  emitted  from  the 
great  everliving  heart  of  Nature  herself :  what  figure  they  will 
assume  is  unspeakably  significant.  To  us,  therefore,  let  the 
French  National  Solemn  League  and  Federation  be  the  highest 
recorded  triumph  of  the  Thespian  Art :  triumphant  surely, 
since  the  whole  Pit,  which  was  of  Twenty-five  Millions,  not 
only  claps  hands,  but  does  itself  spring  on  the  boards  and 
passionately  set  to  playing  there.  And  being  such,  be  it 
treated  as  such  :  with  sincere  cursory  admiration  ;  with  wonder 
from  afar.  A  whole  Nation  gone  mumming  deserves  so  much  ; 
but  deserves  not  that  loving  minuteness  a  Menadic  Insurrection 
did.  Much  more  let  prior,  and  as  it  were  rehearsal  scenes  of 
Federation  come  and  go,  henceforward,  as  they  list ;  and,  on 
Plains  and  'inder  City-walls,  innumerable  regimental  bands 
blare-off  into  the  Inane,  without  note  from  us. 

One  scene,  however,  the  hastiest  reader  will  momentarily 
VOL.  IL  D 


50          THE    FEAST    OF    PIKES       [BK.  I.  CH.  x. 

pause  on :  that  of  Anacharsis  Clootz  and  the  Collective  sinful 
Posterity  of  Adam. — For  a  Patriot  Municipality  has  now,  on 
the  4th  of  June,  got  its  plan  concocted,  and  got  it  sanctioned 
by  National  Assembly ;  a  Patriot  King  assenting ;  to  whom, 
were  he  even  free  to  dissent,  Federative  harangues,  overflowing 
with  loyalty,  have  doubtless  a  transient  sweetness.  There  shall 
come  Deputed  National  Guards,  so  many  in  the  hundred,  from 
«ach  of  the  Eighty-three  Departments  of  France.  Likewise 
from  all  Naval  and  Military  King's  Forces  shall  Deputed  quotas 
come ;  such  Federation  of  National  with  Royal  Soldier  has, 
taking  place  spontaneously,  been  already  seen  and  sanctioned. 
For  the  rest,  it  is  hoped,  as  many  as  forty  thousand  may  arrive: 
expenses  to  be  borne  by  the  Deputing  District ;  of  all  which 
let  District  and  Department  take  thought,  and  elect  fit  men, 
— whom  the  Paris  brethren  will  fly  to  meet  and  welcome. 

Now,  therefore,  judge  if  our  Patriot  Artists  are  busy; 
taking  deep  counsel  how  to  make  the  Scene  worthy  of  a  look 
from  the  Universe !  As  many  as  fifteen  thousand  men, 
spademen,  barrow-men,  stonebuilders,  rammers,  with  their 
engineers,  are  at  work  on  the  Champ-de-Mars ;  hollowing  it 
out  into  a  National  Amphitheatre,  fit  for  such  solemnity. 
For  one  may  hope  it  will  be  annual  and  perennial ;  a  l  Feast 
of  Pikes,  Fete  des  Piques?  notablest  among  the  hightides  of 
the  year :  in  any  case,  ought  not  a  scenic  Free  Nation  to  have 
some  permanent  National  Amphitheatre?  The  Champ-de- 
Mars  is  getting  hollowed  out ;  and  the  daily  talk  and  the 
nightly  dream  in  most  Parisian  heads  is  of  Federation  and 
that  only.  Federate  Deputies  are  already  under  way. 
National  Assembly,  what  with  its  natural  work,  what  with 
hearing  and  answering  harangues  of  these  Federates,  of  this 
Federation,  will  have  enough  to  do  !  Harangue  of  '  American 
Committee,'  among  whom  is  that  faint  figure  of  Paul  Jones 
as  '  with  the  stars  dim-twinkling  through  it,"* — come  to  con- 
gratulate us  on  the  prospect  of  such  auspicious  day.  Harangue 
of  Bastille  Conquerors,  come  to  ( renounce '  any  special  recom- 
pense, any  peculiar  place  at  the  solemnity  ;• — since  the  Centre 


JUNE  19,  1790]  MANKIND  51 

Grenadiers  rather  grumble.  Harangue  of  *  Tennis-Court 
Club,1  who  enter  with  far-gleaming  Brass-plate,  aloft  on  a 
pole,  and  the  Tennis-Court  Oath  engraved  thereon ;  which 
far-gleaming  Brass-plate  they  purpose  to  affix  solemnly  in 
the  Versailles  original  locality,  on  the  20th  of  this  month, 
which  is  the  anniversary,  as  a  deathless  memorial,  for  some 
years  :  they  will  then  dine,  as  they  come  back,  in  the  Bois  de 
Boulogne;1 — cannot,  however,  do  it  without  apprising  the 
world.  To  such  things  does  the  august  National  Assembly 
ever  and  anon  cheerfully  listen,  suspending  its  regenerative 
labours ;  and  with  some  touch  of  impromptu  eloquence,  make 
friendly  reply ; — as  indeed  the  wont  has  long  been  ;  for  it  is 
a  gesticulating,  sympathetic  People,  and  has  a  heart,  and 
wears  it  on  its  sleeve. 

In  which  circumstances,  it  occurred  to  the  mind  of  Ana- 
charsis  Clootz,  that  while  so  much  was  embodying  itself  into 
Club  or  Committee,  and  perorating  applauded,  there  yet 
remained  a  greater  and  greatest;  of  which,  if  it  also  took 
body  and  perorated,  what  might  not  the  effect  be  :  Human- 
kind namely,  le  Genre  Humain  itself !  In  what  rapt  creative 
moment  the  Thought  rose  in  Anacharsis's  soul ;  all  his  throes, 
while  he  went  about  giving  shape  and  birth  to  it ;  how  he 
was  sneered  at  by  cold  worldlings ;  but  did  sneer  again,  being 
a  man  of  polished  sarcasm ;  and  moved  to  and  fro  persuasive 
in  coffeehouse  and  soiree,  and  dived  down  assiduous-obscure  in 
the  great  deep  of  Paris,  making  his  Thought  a  Fact :  of  all 
this  the  spiritual  biographies  of  that  period  say  nothing. 
Enough  that  on  the  19th  evening  of  June  1790,  the  sun's 
slant  rays  lighted  a  spectacle  such  as  our  foolish  little  Planet 
has  not  often  had  to  show :  Anacharsis  Clootz  entering  the 
august  Salle  de  Manage,  with  the  Human  Species  at  his 
heels,  Swedes,  Spaniards,  Polacks ;  Turks,  Chaldeans,  Greeks, 
dwellers  in  Mesopotamia ;  behold  them  all ;  they  have  come 
to  claim  place  in  the  grand  Federation,  having  an  undoubted 
interest  in  it. 

1  See  Deux  Amis,  v.  122  ;  Hist.  Parl.  etc. 


52  THE    FEAST    OF    PIKES       [BK.  I.  CH.  x, 

*  Our  Ambassador  titles/  said  the  fervid  Clootz,  ( are  not 
written  on  parchment,  but  on  the  living  hearts  of  all  men. 
These  whiskered  Polacks,  long-flowing  turbaned  Ishmaelites, 
astrological  Chaldeans,  who  stand  so  mute  here,  let  them  plead 
with  you,  august  Senators,  more  eloquently  than  eloquence 
could.  They  are  the  mute  representatives  of  their  tongue- 
tied,  befettered,  heavy-laden  Nations ;  who  from  out  of  that 
dark  bewilderment  gaze  wistful,  amazed,  with  half-incredulous 
hope,  towards  you,  and  this  your  bright  light  of  a  French 
Federation :  bright  particular  daystar,  the  herald  of  universal 
day.  We  claim  to  stand  there,  as  mute  monuments,  patheti- 
cally adumbrative  of  much. — From  bench  and  gallery  come& 
*  repeated  applause';  for  what  august  Senator  but  is  flattered 
even  by  the  very  shadow  of  Human  Species  depending  on  him  ? 
From  President  Sieyes,  who  presides  this  remarkable  fortnight, 
in  spite  of  his  small  voice,  there  comes  eloquent  though  shrill 
reply.  Anacharsis  and  the  *  Foreigners  Committee'  shall 
have  place  at  the  Federation  ;  on  condition  of  telling  their 
respective  Peoples  what  they  see  there.  In  the  meantime,  we 
invite  them  to  the  *  honours  of  the  sitting,  honneur  de  la 
seance.''  A  long-flowing  Turk,  for  rejoinder,  bows  with 
Eastern  solemnity,  and  utters  articulate  sounds  :  but  owing 
to  his  imperfect  knowledge  of  the  French  dialect,1  his  words 
are  like  spilt  water ;  the  thought  he  had  in  him  remains  con- 
jectural to  this  day. 

Anacharsis  and  Mankind  accept  the  honours  of  the  sitting ; 
and  have  forthwith,  as  the  old  Newspapers  still  testify,  the 
satisfaction  to  see  several  things.  First  and  chief,  on  the 
motion  of  Lameth,  Lafayette,  Saint-Fargeau  and  other  Patriot 
Nobles,  let  the  others  repugn  as  they  will :  all  Titles  of  Nobility, 
from  Duke  to  Esquire,  or  lower,  are  henceforth  abolished.  Then, 
in  like  manner,  Livery  Servants,  or  rather  the  Livery  of  Ser- 
vants. Neither,  for  the  future,  shall  any  man  or  woman,  self- 
styled  noble,  be  *  incensed,' — foolishly  fumigated  with  incense, 
in  Church;  as  the  wont  has  been.  In  a  word,  Feudalism 
1  Moniteur,  etc.  (in  Hist.  ParL  xii.  283). 


JUNE  1790}  MANKIND  58 

being  dead  these  ten  months,  why  should  her  empty  trap- 
pings and  scutcheons  survive  ?  the  very  Coats-of-arms  will 
require  to  be  obliterated  ; — and  yet  Cassandra-Marat  on  this 
and  the  other  coach-panel  notices  that  they  *  are  but  painted 
over,1  and  threaten  to  peer  through  again. 

So  that  henceforth  De  Lafayette  is  but  the  Sieur  Motier, 
and  Saint-Fargeau  is  plain  Michel  Lepelletier  ;  and  Mirabeau 
soon  after  has  to  say  huffingly,  *  With  your  Riquetti  you  have 
set  Europe  at  cross-purposes  for  three  days/  For  his  Count- 
hood  is  not  indifferent  to  this  man  ;  which  indeed  the  admir- 
ing People  treat  him  with  to  the  last.  But  let  extreme 
Patriotism  rejoice,  and  chiefly  Anacharsis  and  Mankind ;  for 
now  it  seems  to  be  taken  for  granted  that  one  Adam  is 
Father  of  us  all  ! — 

Such  was,  in  historical  accuracy,  the  famed  feat  of  Ana- 
charsis. Thus  did  the  most  extensive  of  Public  Bodies  find 
a  sort  of  spokesman.  Whereby  at  least  we  may  judge  of  one 
thing ;  what  a  humour  the  once  sniffing  mocking  City  of 
Paris  and  Baron  Clootz  had  got  into ;  when  such  exhibition 
could  appear  a  propriety,  next  door  to  a  sublimity.  It  is 
true,  Envy  did,  in  after-times,  pervert  this  success  of  Ana- 
charsis ;  making  him,  from  incidental  *  Speaker  of  the  Foreign- 
Nations  Committee,'  claim  to  be  official  permanent  *  Speaker, 
Orateur,  of  the  Human  Species,'  which  he  only  deserved  to 
be  ;  and  alleging,  calumniously,  that  his  astrological  Chal- 
deans, and  the  rest,  were  a  mere  French  tagrag-and-bobtail 
disguised  for  the  nonce  ;  and,  in  short,  sneering  and  fleering 
at  him  in  her  cold  barren  way  :  all  which  however,  he,  the 
man  he  was,  could  receive  on  thick  enough  panoply,  or  even 
rebound  therefrom,  and  also  go  his  way. 

Most  extensive  of  Public  Bodies,  we  may  call  it ;  and  also 
the  most  unexpected  :  for  who  could  have  thought  to  see  All 
Nations  in  the  Tuileries  Riding-Hall  ?  But  so  it  is ;  and 
truly  as  strange  things  may  happen  when  a  whole  People  goes 
mumming  and  miming.  Hast  not  thou  thyself  perchance 
seen  diademed  Cleopatra,  daughter  of  the  Ptolemies,  pleading, 


54  THE    FEAST    OF    PIKES       [BK.  I.  CH.  x. 

almost  with  bended  knee,  in  unheroic  tea-parlour,  or  dimlit 
retail-shop,  to  inflexible  gross  Burghal  Dignitary,  for  leave  to 
reign  and  die ;  being  dressed  for  it,  and  moneyless,  with  small 
children ; — while  suddenly  Constables  have  shut  the  Thespian 
barn,  and  her  Antony  pleaded  in  vain  ?  Such  visual  spectra 
flit  across  this  Earth,  if  the  Thespian  Stage  be  rudely  inter- 
fered with :  but  much  more,  when,  as  was  said,  Pit  jumps  on 
Stage,  then  is  it  verily,  as  in  Herr  Tieck's  Drama,  a  VerTcehrte 
Welt,  or  World  Topsy-turvied  ! 

Having  seen  the  Human  Species  itself,  to  have  seen  the 
*  Dean  of  the  Human  Species '  ceased  now  to  be  a  miracle. 
Such  '  Doyen  du  Genre  Humawi,  Eldest  of  Men,'  had  shown 
himself  there,  in  these  weeks :  Jean  Claude  Jacob,  a  born 
Serf,  deputed  from  his  native  Jura  Mountains  to  thank  the 
National  Assembly  for  enfranchising  them.  On  his  bleached 
worn  face  are  ploughed  the  furrowings  of  one  hundred  and 
twenty  years.  He  has  heard  dim  patois-ta\k,  of  immortal 
Grand-Monarch  victories ;  of  a  burned  Palatinate,  as  he 
toiled  and  moiled  to  make  a  little  speck  of  this  Earth  greener; 
of  Cevennes  Dragoonings ;  of  Marlborough  going  to  the  war. 
Four  generations  have  bloomed  out,  and  loved  and  hated, 
and  rustled  off:  he  was  forty-six  when  Louis  Fourteenth  died. 
The  Assembly,  as  one  man,  spontaneously  rose,  and  did  rever- 
ence to  the  Eldest  of  the  World ;  old  Jean  is  to  take  seance 
among  them,  honourably,  with  covered  head.  He  gazes  feebly 
there,  with  his  old  eyes,  on  that  new  wonder-scene  ;  dream- 
like to  him,  and  uncertain,  wavering  amid  fragments  of  old 
memories  and  dreams.  For  Time  is  all  growing  unsub- 
stantial, dreamlike ;  Jean's  eyes  and  mind  are  weary,  and 
about  to  close, — and  open  on  a  far  other  wonder-scene,  which 
shall  be  real.  Patriot  Subscription,  Royal  Pension  was  got 
for  him,  and  he  returned  home  glad  ;  but  in  two  months 
more  he  left  it  all,  and  went  on  his  unknown  way.1 
1  Deux  Amis,  iv.  UL 


JULY  i,  1790]     AS    IN    THE    AGE    OF    GOLD      55 
CHAPTER    XI 

AS    IN   THE   AGE   OF   GOLD 

MEANWHILE  to  Paris,  ever  going  and  returning,  day  after 
day,  and  all  day  long,  towards  that  Field  of  Mars,  it  becomes 
painfully  apparent  that  the  spadework  there  cannot  be  got 
done  in  time.  There  is  such  an  area  of  it ;  three  hundred 
thousand  square  feet :  for  from  the  Ecole  Militaire  (which 
will  need  to  be  done  up  in  wood  with  balconies  and  gal- 
leries) westward  to  the  Gate  by  the  River  (where  also  shall 
be  wood,  in  triumphal  arches),  we  count  some  thousand  yards 
of  length ;  and  for  breadth,  from  this  umbrageous  Avenue  of 
eight  rows,  on  the  South  side,  to  that  corresponding  one  on 
the  North,  some  thousand  feet  more  or  less.  All  this  to  be 
scooped  out,  and  wheeled  up  in  slope  along  the  sides ;  high 
enough ;  for  it  must  be  rammed  down  there,  and  shaped 
stair-wise  into  as  many  as  *  thirty  ranges  of  convenient  seats/ 
firm-trimmed  with  turf,  covered  with  enduring  timber ; — and 
then  our  huge  pyramidal  Fatherland's- Altar,  Autel  de  la 
Patrie,  in  the  centre,  also  to  be  raised  and  stair-stepped. 
Force- work  with  a  vengeance ;  it  is  a  World's  Amphitheatre  ! 
There  are  but  fifteen  days  good  :  and  at  this  languid  rate,  it 
might  take  half  as  many  weeks.  What  is  singular  too,  the 
spademen  seem  to  work  lazily ;  they  will  not  work  double- 
tides,  even  for  offer  of  more  wages,  though  their  tide  is  but 
seven  hours ;  they  declare  angrily  that  the  human  tabernacle 
requires  occasional  rest ! 

Is  it  Aristocrats  secretly  bribing  ?  Aristocrats  were  capable 
of  that.  Only  six  months  since,  did  not  evidence  get  afloat 
that  subterreanean  Paris, — for  we  stand  over  quarries  and 
catacombs,  dangerously,  as  it  were  midway  between  Heaven 
and  the  Abyss,  and  are  hollow  underground, — was  charged 
with  gunpowder,  which  should  make  us  *  leap '  ?  Till  a 


56          THE    FEAST    OF    PIKES      [BK.  I.  CH.  XL 

Cordeliers  Deputation  actually  went  to  examine,  and  found 
it — carried  off  again  ! 1  An  accursed,  incurable  brood ;  all 
asking  for  *  passports,'  in  these  sacred  days.  Trouble,  of 
rioting,  chateau-burning,  is  in  the  Limousin  and  elsewhere ; 
for  they  are  busy !  Between  the  best  of  Peoples  and  the 
best  of  Restorer  Kings  they  would  sow  grudges ;  with  what  a 
fiend's  grin  would  they  see  this  Federation,  looked  for  by  the 
Universe,  fail ! 

Fail  for  want  of  spadework,  however,  it  shall  not.  He 
that  has  four  limbs  and  a  French  heart  can  do  spadework ; 
and  will !  On  the  first  July  Monday,  scarcely  has  the  signal- 
cannon  boomed ;  scarcely  have  the  languescent  mercenary 
Fifteen  Thousand  laid  down  their  tools,  and  the  eyes  of 
onlookers  turned  sorrowfully  to  the  still  high  Sun ;  when  this 
and  the  other  Patriot,  fire  in  his  eye,  snatches  barrow  and 
mattock,  and  himself  begins  indignantly  wheeling.  Whom 
scores  and  then  hundreds  follow ;  and  soon  a  volunteer  Fifteen 
Thousand  are  shovelling  and  trundling;  with  the  heart  of 
giants :  and  all  in  right  order,  with  that  extemporaneous 
adroitness  of  theirs :  whereby  such  a  lift  has  been  given, 
worth  three  mercenary  ones ; — which  may  end  when  the  late 
twilight  thickens,  in  triumph-shouts,  heard  or  heard  of 
beyond  Montmartre ! 

A  sympathetic  population  will  wait,  next  day,  with  eager- 
ness, till  the  tools  are  free.  Or  why  wait  ?  Spades  elsewhere 
exist !  And  so  now  bursts  forth  that  effulgence  of  Parisian 
enthusiasm,  good-heartedness  and  brotherly  love ;  such,  if 
Chroniclers  are  trustworthy,  as  was  not  witnessed  since  the 
Age  of  Gold.  Paris,  male  and  female,  precipitates  itself 
towards  its  Southwest  extremity,  spade  on  shoulder.  Streams 
of  men,  without  order ;  or  in  order,  as  ranked  fellow-crafts- 
men, as  natural  or  accidental  reunions,  march  towards  the 
Field  of  Mars.  Three-deep  these  march ;  to  the  sound  of 
stringed  music ;  preceded  by  young  girls  with  green  bought 
1  23d  December  1789  (Newspapers  in  Hist.  Parl.  iv.  44). 


JULY  2-12,  1790]    AS   IN   THE   AGE   OF   GOLD        57 

and  tricolor  streamers :  they  have  shouldered,  soldier-wise, 
their  shovels  and  picks ;  and  with  one  throat  are  singing 
ca-ira.  Yes,  pardieu  ca-ira,  cry  the  passengers  on  the  streets. 
All  corporate  Guilds,  and  public  and  private  Bodies  of 
Citizens,  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest,  march;  the  very 
Hawkers,  one  finds,  have  ceased  bawling  for  one  day.  The 
neighbouring  Villages  turn  out :  their  able  men  come  march- 
ing, to  village  fiddle  or  tambourine  and  triangle,  under  their 
Mayor,  or  Mayor  and  Curate,  who  also  walk  bespaded,  and  in 
tricolor  sash.  As  many  as  one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand 
workers ;  nay  at  certain  seasons,  as  some  count,  two  hundred 
and  fifty  thousand ;  for,  in  the  afternoon  especially,  what 
mortal  but,  finishing  his  hasty  day's  work,  would  run !  A 
stirring  City  •  from  the  time  you  reach  the  Place  Louis- 
Quinze,  southward  over  the  River,  by  all  Avenues,  it  is  one 
living  throng.  So  many  workers ;  and  no  mercenary  mock- 
workers,  but  real  ones  that  lie  freely  to  it :  each  Patriot 
stretches  himself  against  the  stubborn  glebe  ;  hews  and  wheels 
with  the  whole  weight  that  is  in  him. 

Amiable  infants,  aimabks  enfans  !  They  do  the  4  police  de 
T atelier'  too,  the  guidance  and  governance,  themselves ;  with 
that  ready  will  of  theirs,  with  that  extemporaneous  adroitness. 
It  is  a  true  brethren's  work ;  all  distinctions  confounded, 
abolished;  as  it  was  in  the  beginning,  when  Adam  himself 
delved.  Long-frocked  tonsured  Monks,  with  short-skirted 
Water-carriers,  with  swallow-tailed  well-frizzled  Incroyables  of 
a  Patriot  turn  ;  dark  Charcoal  men,  meal- white  Peruke- makers; 
or  Peruke-wearers,  for  Advocate  and  Judge  are  there,  and  all 
Heads  of  Districts :  sober  Nuns  sisterlike  with  flaunting 
Nymphs  of  the  Opera,  and  females  in  common  circumstances 
named  unfortunate :  the  patriot  Ragpicker,  and  perfumed 
dweller  in  palaces ;  for  Patriotism,  like  New-birth,  and  also 
like  Death,  levels  all.  The  Printers  have  come  marching, 
Prudhcmme's  all  in  Paper-caps  with  Revolutions  de  Paris 
printed  on  them ; — as  Camille  notes ;  wishing  that  in  these 
great  days  there  should  be  a  Pacte  des  Ecrivains  too,  or  Fede- 


58          THE    FEAST    OF    PIKES      [BK.  I.  CH.  XL 

ration  of  Able  Editors.1  Beautiful  to  see  !  The  snowy  linen 
and  delicate  pantaloon  alternates  with  the  soiled  check-shirt 
and  bushel-breeches  ;  for  both  have  cast  their  coats,  and  under 
both  are  four  limbs  and  a  set  of  Patriot  muscles.  There  do 
they  pick  and  shovel ;  or  bend  forward,  yoked  in  long  strings 
to  box-barrow  or  overloaded  tumbril ;  joyous,  with  one  mind. 
Abbe  Sieyes  is  seen  pulling,  wiry,  vehement,  if  too  light  for 
draught ;  by  the  side  of  Beauharnais,  who  shall  get  Kings 
though  he  be  none.  Abbe  Maury  did  not  pull ;  but  the 
Charcoalmen  brought  a  mummer  guised  like  him,  and  he  had 
to  pull  in  effigy.  Let  no  august  Senator  disdain  the  work : 
Mayor  Bailly,  Generalissimo  Lafayette  are  there ; — and,  alas, 
shall  be  there  again  another  day !  The  King  himself  comes 
to  see :  sky-rending  Vive-k-roi !  '  and  suddenly  with  shoul- 
dered spades  they  form  a  guard  of  honour  round  him.'*  Whoso- 
ever can  come  comes  ;  to  work,  or  to  look,  and  bless  the  work. 
Whole  families  have  come.  One  whole  family  we  see  clearly 
of  three  generations  :  the  father  picking,  the  mother  shovel- 
ling, the  young  ones  wheeling  assiduous ;  old  grandfather, 
hoary  with  ninety-three  years,  holds  in  his  arms  the  youngest 
of  all  :2  frisky,  not  helpful  this  one ;  who  nevertheless  may 
tell  it  to  his  grandchildren  ;  and  how  the  Future  and  the  Past 
alike  looked  on,  and  with  failing  or  with  half-formed  voice, 
faltered  their  $a-ira.  A  vintner  has  wheeled  in,  on  Patriot 
truck,  beverage  of  wine :  '  Drink  not,  my  brothers,  if  ye  are 
not  thirsty ;  that  your  cask  may  last  the  longer : '  neither  did 
any  drink  but  men  *  evidently  exhausted.'  A  dapper  Abbe 
looks  on,  sneering :  '  To  the  barrow ! '  cry  several ;  whom 
he,  lest  a  worse  thing  befall  him,  obeys :  nevertheless  one 
wiser  Patriot  barrowman,  arriving  now,  interposes  his  '  arre- 
tex ' ;  setting  down  his  own  barrow,  he  snatches  the  Abbe's ; 
trundles  it  fast,  like  an  infected  thing,  forth  of  the  Champ- 
de-Mars  circuit,  and  discharges  it  there.  Thus  too  a  certain 
person  (of  some  quality,  or  private  capital,  to  appearance), 

1  See  Newspapers,  etc.  (in  Hist.  Parl.  vi.  381-406). 
*  Mercier,  ii.  76,  etc. 


JULY  2-12,  1790]    AS   IN   THE   AGE    OF   GOLD        59 

entering  hastily,  flings  down  his  coat,  waistcoat  and  two 
watches,  and  is  rushing  to  the  thick  of  the  work  :  '  But  your 
watches  ? '  cries  the  general  voice. — '  Does  one  distrust  his 
brothers  ?  '  answers  he ;  nor  were  the  watches  stolen.  How 
beautiful  is  noble-sentiment :  like  gossamer  gauze,  beautiful 
and  cheap ;  which  will  stand  no  tear  and  wear !  Beautiful 
cheap  gossamer  gauze,  thou  film-shadow  of  a  raw-material  of 
Virtue,  which  art  not  woven,  nor  likely  to  be,  into  Duty ;  thou 
art  better  than  nothing,  and  also  worse  ! 

Young  Boarding-school  Boys,  College  Students,  shout  Vive 
la  Nation,  and  regret  that  they  have  yet  *  only  their  sweat  to 
give."1  What  say  we  of  Boys  ?  Beautifulest  Hebes ;  the 
loveliest  of  Paris,  in  their  light  air-robes,  with  riband-girdle 
of  tricolor,  are  there  ;  shovelling  and  wheeling  with  the  rest ; 
their  Hebe  eyes  brighter  with  enthusiasm,  and  long  hair  in 
beautiful  dishevelment ;  broad-pressed  are  their  small  fingers  ; 
but  they  make  the  patriot  barrow  go,  and  even  force  it  to  the 
summit  of  the  slope  (with  a  little  tracing,  which  what  man's 
arm  were  not  too  happy  to  lend  ?) — then  bound  down  with  it 
again,  and  go  for  more ;  with  their  long  locks  and  tricolors 
blown  back ;  graceful  as  the  rosy  Hours.  O,  as  that  evening 
Sun  fell  over  the  Champ-de-Mars,  and  tinted  with  fire  the 
thick  umbrageous  boscage  that  shelters  it  on  this  hand  and 
on  that,  and  struck  direct  on  those  Domes  and  two-and -forty 
Windows  of  the  Ecole  Militaire,  and  made  them  all  of  bur- 
nished gold, — saw  he  on  his  wide  zodiac  road  other  such 
sight  ?  A  living  garden  spotted  and  dotted  with  such  flower- 
age  ;  all  colours  of  the  prism  ;  the  beautifulest  blent  friendly 
with  the  usefulest ;  all  growing  and  working  brotherlike  there 
under  one  warm  feeling,  were  it  but  for  days ;  once  and  no 
second  time  !  But  Night  is  sinking ;  these  Nights,  too,  into 
Eternity.  The  hastiest  traveller  Versailles-ward  has  drawn 
bridle  on  the  heights  of  Chaillot  :  and  looked  for  moments 
over  the  River ;  reporting  at  Versailles  what  he  saw,  not  with- 
out tears.1 

1  Mcrcier,  ii.  8l. 


£0          THE    FEAST    OF    PIKES      [BK.  I.  CH.  XL 

Meanwhile,  from  all  points  of  the  compass,  Federates  are 
arriving :  fervid  children  of  the  South,  '  who  glory  in  their 
Mirabeau ' ;  considerate  North-blooded  Mountaineers  of  Jura ; 
sharp  Bretons,  with  their  Gaelic  suddenness ;  Normans,  not 
to  be  overreached  in  bargain :  all  now  animated  with  one 
noblest  fire  of  Patriotism.  Whom  the  Paris  brethren  march 
forth  to  receive ;  with  military  solemnities,  with  fraternal 
embracing,  and  a  hospitality  worthy  of  the  heroic  ages. 
They  assist  at  the  Assembly's  Debates,  these  Federates  ;  the 
Galleries  are  reserved  for  them.  They  assist  in  the  toils  of 
the  Champ-de-Mars ;  each  new  troop  will  put  its  hand  to  the 
spade;  lift  a  hod  of  earth  on  the  Altar  of  the  Fatherland. 
But  the  flourishes  of  rhetoric,  for  it  is  a  gesticulating  People ; 
the  moral-sublime  of  those  Addresses  to  an  august  Assembly, 
to  a  Patriot  Restorer !  Our  Breton  Captain  of  Federates 
kneels  even,  in  a  fit  of  enthusiasm,  and  gives  up  his  sword ; 
he  wet-eyed  to  a  King  wet-eyed.  Poor  Louis !  These,  as  he 
said  afterwards,  were  among  the  bright  days  of  his  life. 

Reviews  also  there  must  be ;  royal  Federate-reviews,  with 
King,  Queen  and  tricolor  Court  looking  on  :  at  lowest,  if,  as 
is  too  common,  it  rains,  our  Federate  Volunteers  will  file 
through  the  inner  gateways,  Royalty  standing  dry.  Nay 
there,  should  some  stop  occur,  the  beautifulest  fingers  in 
France  may  take  you  softly  by  the  lapelle,  and,  in  mild  flute- 
voice,  ask  :  *  Monsieur,  of  what  Province  are  you  ? '  Happy 
he  who  can  reply,  chivalrously  lowering  his  sword's  point, 

*  Madame,  from  the   Province  your  ancestors   reigned  over.' 
He  that  happy  'Provincial  Advocate,'  now  Provincial  Feder- 
ate, shall   be  rewarded   by  a  sun-smile,  and  such  melodious 
glad  words  addressed  to  a  King :  *  Sire,  these  are  your  faith- 
ful  Lorrainers.'     Cheerier  verily,  in   these  holidays,  is   this 

*  skyblue  faced  with  red '  of  a  National  Guardsman,  than  the 
dull  black  and  grey  of  a  Provincial  Advocate,  which  in  work- 
days one  was  used  to.     For  the  same  thrice-blessed  Lorrainer 
shall,  this  evening,  stand  sentry  at  a  Queen's  door ;  and  feel 
that  he  could  die  a  thousand  deaths  for  her :  then  again,  at 


JULY  14,  I790]     SOUND    AND    SMOKE  61 

the  outer  gate,  and  even  a  third  time,  she  shall  see  him ;  nay 
he  will    make  her  do  it;    presenting  arms  with  emphasis, 

*  making  his  musket  jingle  again ' :  and  in  her  salute  there  shall 
again  be  a  sun-smile,  and  that  little  blonde-locked  too  hasty 
Dauphin  shall  be  admonished,  *  Salute,  then,  Monsieur ;  don't 
be  unpolite ' ;  and  therewith  she,  like  a  bright  Sky- wanderer 
or  Planet  with  her  little  Moon,  issues  forth  peculiar.1 

But  at  night,  when  Patriot  spadework  is  over,  figure  the 
sacred  rites  of  hospitality  !  Lepelletier  Saint-Fargeau,  a  mere 
private  senator,  but  with  great  possessions,  has  daily  his 

*  hundred  dinner-guests ' ;  the  table  of  Generalissimo  Lafayette 
may  double  that  number.      In  lowly  parlour,  as  in  lofty  saloon, 
the  wine-cup  passes  round  ;  crowned  by  the  smiles  of  Beauty  ; 
be  it  of  lightly-tripping  Grisette  or  of  high-sailing  Dame,  for 
both  equally  have  beauty,  and  smiles  precious  to  the  brave. 


CHAPTER    XII 
SOUND   AND   SMOKE 

AND  so  now,  in  spite  of  plotting  Aristocrats,  lazy  hired 
spademen,  and  almost  of  Destiny  itself  (for  there  has  been 
much  rain  too),  the  Champ-de-Mars,  on  the  13th  of  the 
month,  is  fairly  ready :  trimmed,  rammed,  buttressed  with 
firm  masonry ;  and  Patriotism  can  stroll  over  it  admiring ; 
and  as  it  were  rehearsing,  for  in  every  head  is  some  unutter- 
able image  of  the  morrow.  Pray  Heaven  there  be  not  clouds. 
Nay  what  far  worse  cloud  is  this,  of  a  misguided  Municipality 
that  talks  of  admitting  Patriotism  to  the  solemnity  by  tickets ! 
Was  it  by  tickets  we  were  admitted  to  the  work ;  and  to 
what  brought  the  work  ?  Did  we  take  the  Bastille  by 
tickets?  A  misguided  Municipality  sees  the  error;  at  late 
midnight,  rolling  drums  announced  to  Patriotism  starting  half 
out  of  its  bed-clothes,  that  it  is  to  be  ticketless.  Pull  down. 

1  Narrative  by  a  Lorraine  Federate  (given  in  Hist.Parl.  vi.  389-91). 


(32          THE    FEAST    OF    PIKES     [BK.  I.  CH.  xn. 

thy  nightcap  therefore ;  and,  with  demi-articulate  grumble, 
significant  of  several  things,  go  pacified  to  sleep  again.  To- 
morrow is  Wednesday  morning;  unforgettable  among  the 
fasti  of  the  world. 

The  morning  comes,  cold  for  a  July  one ;  but  such  a  fes- 
tivity would  make  Greenland  smile.  Through  every  inlet  of 
that  National  Amphitheatre  (for  it  is  a  league  in  circuit,  cut 
with  openings  at  due  intervals),  flood  s-in  the  living  throng ; 
covers,  without  tumult,  space  after  space.  The  Ecole 
Militaire  has  galleries  and  overvaulting  canopies,  wherein 
Carpentry  and  Painting  have  vied,  for  the  Upper  Authorities ; 
triumphal  arches,  at  the  Gate  by  the  River,  bear  inscriptions, 
if  weak,  yet  well-meant  and  orthodox.  Far  aloft,  over  the 
Altar  of  the  Fatherland,  on  their  tall  crane  standards  of  iron, 
swing  pensile  our  antique  Cassolettes  or  Pans  of  Incense ; 
dispensing  sweet  incense-fumes, — unless  for  the  Heathen 
Mythology,  one  sees  not  for  whom.  Two  hundred  thousand 
Patriotic  Men ;  and,  twice  as  good,  one  hundred  thousand 
Patriotic  Women,  all  decked  and  glorified  as  one  can  fancy, 
sit  waiting  in  this  Champ-de-Mars. 

What  a  picture  :  that  circle  of  bright-dyed  Life,  spread  up 
there,  on  its  thirty-seated  Slope  ;  leaning,  one  would  say,  on 
the  thick  umbrage  of  those  Avenue-Trees,  for  the  stems  of 
them  are  hidden  by  the  height ;  and  all  beyond  it  mere  green- 
ness of  Summer  Earth,  with  the  gleams  of  waters,  or  white 
sparklings  of  stone  edifices  :  little  circular  enamel  picture  in 
the  centre  of  such  a  vase — of  emerald  !  A  vase  not  empty : 
the  Invalides  Cupolas  want  not  their  population,  nor  the 
distant  Windmills  of  Montmartre ;  on  remotest  steeple  and 
invisible  village  belfry  stand  men  with  spy-glasses.  On  the 
heights  of  Chaillot  are  many-coloured  undulating  groups ; 
round  and  far  on,  over  all  the  circling  heights  that  embosom 
Paris,  it  is  as  one  more  or  less  peopled  Amphitheatre ;  which 
the  eye  grows  dim  with  measuring.  Nay  heights,  as  was 
before  hinted,  have  cannon  ;  and  a  floating-battery  of  cannon 


JULY  14,  1790]     SOUND    AND    SMOKE  C3 

is  on  the  Seine.  When  eye  fails,  ear  shall  serve  ;  and  all 
France  properly  is  but  one  Amphitheatre  ;  for  in  paved  town 
and  unpaved  hamlet  men  walk  listening ;  till  the  muffled 
thunder  sound  audible  on  their  horizon,  that  they  too  may 
begin  swearing  and  firing  ! l  But  now,  to  streams  of  music, 
come  Federates  enough, — for  they  have  assembled  on  the 
Boulevard  Saint-Antoine  or  thereby,  and  come  marching 
through  the  City,  with  their  Eighty-three  Department  Ban- 
ners, and  blessings  not  loud  but  deep  ;  comes  National 
Assembly,  and  takes  seat  under  its  Canopy ;  comes  Royalty, 
and  takes  seat  on  a  throne  beside  it.  And  Lafayette,  on 
white  charger,  is  here,  and  all  the  civic  Functionaries  ;  and 
the  Federates  form  dances,  till  their  strictly  military  evolu- 
tions and  mano2uvres  can  begin. 

Evolutions  and  manauvres  ?  Task  not  the  pen  of  mortal 
to  describe  them  :  truant  imagination  droops ;— declares  that 
it  is  not  worth  while.  There  is  wheeling  and  sweeping,  to 
slow,  to  quick  and  double-quick  time  :  Sieur  Motier,  or 
Generalissimo  Lafayette,  for  they  are  one  and  the  same,  and 
he  is  General  of  France,  in  the  King's  stead,  for  four-and- 
twenty  hours ;  Sieur  Motier  must  step  forth,  with  that 
sublime  chivalrous  gait  of  his  ;  solemnly  ascend  the  steps  of 
the  Fatherland's  Altar,  in  sight  of  Heaven  and  of  the 
scarcely  breathing  Earth ;  and,  under  the  creak  of  those 
swinging  Cassolettes,  *  pressing  his  sword's  point  firmly  there,' 
pronounce  the  Oath,  To  King,  to  Law,  and  Nation  (not  to 
mention  '  grains '  with  their  circulating),  in  his  own  name  and 
that  of  armed  France.  Whereat  there  is  waving  of  banners, 
and  acclaim  sufficient.  The  National  Assembly  must  swear, 
standing  in  its  place  ;  the  King  himself  audibly.  The  King 
swears  ;  and  now  be  the  welkin  split  with  vivats  :  let  citizens 
enfranchised  embrace,  each  smiting  heartily  his  palm  into  his 
fellow's ;  and  armed  Federates  clang  their  arms  ;  above  all, 
that  floating  battery  speak  !  It  has  spoken, — to  the  four 
corners  of  France.  From  eminence  to  eminence  bursts  the 

1  Deux  Amis,  v.  l6& 


64  THE    FEAST    OF    PIKES     [BK.  I.  CH.  xil. 

thunder ;  faint-heard,  loud-repeated.  What  a  stone,  cast 
into  what  a  lake  ;  in  circles  that  do  not  grow  fainter.  From 
Arras  to  Avignon  ;  from  Metz  to  Bayonne  !  Over  Orleans 
and  Blois  it  rolls,  in  cannon-recitative  ;  Puy  bellows  of  it  amid 
his  granite  mountains ;  Pau  where  is  the  shell-cradle  of  Great 
Henri.  At  far  Marseilles,  one  can  think,  the  ruddy  evening 
witnesses  it ;  over  the  deep-blue  Mediterranean  waters,  the 
Castle  of  If  ruddy-tinted  darts  forth,  from  every  cannon's 
mouth,  its  tongue  of  fire ;  and  all  the  people  shout :  Yes, 
France  is  free.  O  glorious  France,  that  has  burst  out  so  ; 
into  universal  sound  and  smoke  ;  and  attained — the  Phrygian 
Cap  of  Liberty  !  In  all  Towns,  Trees  of  Liberty  also  may  be 
planted  ;  with  or  without  advantage.  Said  we  not,  it  was 
the  highest  stretch  attained  by  the  Thespian  Art  on  this 
Planet,  or  perhaps  attainable  ? 

The  Thespian  Art,  unfortunately,  one  must  still  call  it ;  for 
behold  there,  on  this  Field  of  Mars,  the  National  Banners, 
before  there  could  be  any  swearing,  were  to  be  all  blessed.  A 
most  proper  operation ;  since  surely  without  Heaven's  blessing 
bestowed,  say  even,  audibly  or  inaudibly  sought,  no  Earthly 
banner  or  contrivance  can  prove  victorious  :  but  now  the 
means  of  doing  it  ?  By  what  thrice-divine  Franklin  thunder- 
rod  shall  miraculous  fire  be  drawn  out  of  Heaven  ;  and 
descend  gently,  lifegiving,  with  health  to  the  souls  of  men  ? 
Alas,  by  the  simplest :  by  Two  Hundred  shaven-crowned  In- 
dividuals, '  in  snow-white  albs,  with  tricolor  girdles,1  arranged 
on  the  steps  of  Fatherland's  Altar ;  and,  at  their  head  for 
spokesman,  SouTs-Overseer  Talleyrand-Perigord  !  These  shall 
act  as  miraculous  thunder-rod, — to  such  length  as  they  can. 
O  ye  deep  azure  Heavens,  and  thou  green  all-nursing  Earth ; 
ye  Streams  overflowing  ;  deciduous  Forests  that  die  and  are 
born  again,  continually,  like  the  sons  of  men ;  stone 
Mountains  that  die  daily  with  every  rain-shower,  yet  are  not 
dead  and  levelled  for  ages  of  ages,  nor  born  again  (it  seems) 
but  with  new  world-explosions,  and  such  tumultuous  seething 
and  tumbling,  steam  half-way  to  the  Moon ;  O  thou 


JULY  14,  I790]     SOUND    AND    SMOKE  65 

unfathomable  mystic  All,  garment  and  dwelling-place  of  the 
UNNAMED  ;  and  thou,  articulate-speaking  Spirit  of  Man,  who 
mouldest  and  modellest  that  Unfathomable  Unnameable  even 
as  we  see, — is  not  there  a  miracle :  That  some  French  mortal 
should,  we  say  not  have  believed,  but  pretended  to  imagine 
he  believed  that  Talleyrand  and  Two  Hundred  pieces  of  white 
Calico  could  do  it ! 

Here,  however,  we  are  to  remark  with  the  sorrowing 
Historians  of  that  day,  that  suddenly,  while  Episcopus 
Talleyrand,  long-stoled,  with  mitre  and  tricolor  belt,  was  yet 
but  hitching  up  the  Altar-steps  to  do  his  miracle,  the 
material  Heaven  grew  black ;  a  north-wind,  moaning  cold 
moisture,  began  to  sing ;  and  there  descended  a  very  deluge 
of  rain.  Sad  to  see !  The  thirty-staired  Seats,  all  round  our 
Amphitheatre,  get  instantaneously  slated  with  mere  umbrellas, 
fallacious  when  so  thick-set :  our  antique  Cassolettes  become 
water-pots;  their  incense-smoke  gone  hissing,  in  a  whiff  of 
muddy  vapour.  Alas,  instead  of  vivats,  there  is  nothing  now 
but  the  furious  peppering  and  rattling.  From  three  to  four 
hundred  thousand  human  individuals  feel  that  they  have  a 
skin ;  happily  impervious.  The  GeneraTs  sash  runs  water : 
how  all  military  banners  droop ;  and  will  not  wave,  but 
lazily  flap,  as  if  metamorphosed  into  painted  tin-banners ! 
Worse,  far  worse,  these  hundred  thousand,  such  is  the 
Historian's  testimony,  of  the  fairest  of  France  !  Their  snowy 
muslins  all  splashed  and  draggled ;  the  ostrich-feather  shrunk 
shamefully  to  the  backbone  of  a  feather  :  all  caps  are  ruined  ; 
innermost  pasteboard  molten  into  its  original  pap  :  Beauty  no 
longer  swims  decorated  in  her  garniture,  like  Love-goddess 
hidden-revealed  in  her  Paphian  clouds,  but  struggles  in 
disastrous  imprisonment  in  it,  for  *  the  shape  was  noticeable ' ; 
and  now  only  sympathetic  interjections,  titterings,  teheeings, 
and  resolute  good-humour  will  avail.  A  deluge ;  an  incessant 
sheet  or  fluid-column  of  rain  ; — such  that  our  Overseer's  very 
mitre  must  be  filled ;  not  a  mitre,  but  a  filled  and  leaky  fire- 
bucket  on  his  reverend  head  ! — Regardless  of  which,  Overseer 

VOL.  11.  K 


66          THE    FEAST    OF    PIKES     [BK.  I.  CH.  XH. 

Talleyrand  performs  his  miracle :  the  Blessing  of  Talleyrand, 
another  than  that  of  Jacob,  is  on  all  the  Eighty-three 
departmental  flags  of  France ;  which  wave  or  flap,  with 
such  thankfulness  as  needs.  Towards  three  o'clock,  the  sun 
beams  out  again :  the  remaining  evolutions  can  be  transacted 
under  bright  heavens,  though  with  decorations  much  damaged.1 

On  Wednesday  our  Federation  is  consummated  :  but  the 
festivities  last  out  the  week,  and  over  into  the  next.  Fes- 
tivities such  as  no  Bagdad  Caliph,  or  Aladdin  with  the  Lamp 
could  have  equalled.  There  is  a  Jousting  on  the  River ;  with 
its  water-somersets,  splashing  and  haha-ing :  Abbe  Fauchet, 
Te-Deum  Fauchet,  preaches,  for  his  part,  in  the  *  rotunda  of 
the  Corn-Market,'  a  funeral  harangue  on  Franklin ;  for  whom 
the  National  Assembly  has  lately  gone  three  days  in  black. 
The  Motier  and  Lepelletier  tables  still  groan  with  viands ; 
roofs  ringing  with  patriotic  toasts.  On  the  fifth  evening,  which 
is  the  Christian  Sabbath,  there  is  a  universal  Ball.  Paris, 
out  of  doors  and  in,  man,  woman  and  child,  is  jigging  it,  to 
the  sound  of  harp  and  four-stringed  fiddle.  The  hoariest- 
headed  man  will  tread  one  other  measure,  under  this  nether 
Moon ;  speechless  nurselings,  infants  as  we  call  them,  v^tna 
rexva,  crow  in  arms  ;  and  sprawl  out  numb-plump  little  limbs, 
— impatient  for  muscularity,  they  know  not  why.  The 
stiffest  balk  bends  more  or  less ;  all  joists  creak. 

Or  out,  on  the  Earth's  breast  itself,  behold  the  Ruins  of 
the  Bastille.  All  lamplit,  allegorically  decorated ;  a  Tree  of 
Liberty  sixty  feet  high;  and  Phrygian  Cap  on  it,  of  size 
enormous,  under  which  King  Arthur  and  his  round-table 
might  have  dined  !  In  the  depths  of  the  background  is  a 
single  lugubrious  lamp,  rendering  dim-visible  one  of  your  iron 
cages,  half-buried,  and  some  Prison  stones, — Tyranny  vanish- 
ing downwards,  all  gone  but  the  skirt :  the  rest  wholly  lamp- 
festoons,  trees  real  or  of  pasteboard ;  in  the  similitude  of  a 
fairy  grove ;  with  this  inscription,  readable  to  runner :  *  Id 
Fan  danse,  Dancing  Here.'  As  indeed  had  been  obscurely 

1  Deux  Amit,  v.  143-179. 


JULY  14-18,  1790]     SOUND    AND    SMOKE  67 

foreshadowed  by  Cagliostro 1  prophetic  Quack  of  Quacks,  when 
he,  four  years  ago,  quitted  the  grim  durance ; — to  fall  into  a 
grimmer,  of  the  Roman  Inquisition,  and  not  quit  it. 

But,  after  all,  what  is  this  Bastille  business  to  that  of  the 
Champs  Elyseesl  Thither,  to  these  Fields  well  named 
Elysian,  all  feet  tend.  It  is  radiant  as  day  with  festooned 
lamps ;  little  oil-cups,  like  variegated  fire-flies,  daintily  illume 
the  highest  leaves  :  trees  there  are  all  sheeted  with  variegated 
fire,  shedding  far  a  glimmer  into  the  dubious  wood.  There, 
under  the  free  sky,  do  tight-limbed  Federates,  with  fairest 
newfound  sweethearts,  elastic  as  Diana,  and  not  of  that  coy- 
ness and  tart  humour  of  Diana,  thread  their  jocund  mazes,  all 
through  the  ambrosial  night ;  and  hearts  were  touched  and 
fired ;  and  seldom  surely  had  our  old  Planet,  in  that  huge 
conic  Shadow  of  hers,  *  which  goes  beyond  the  Moon,  and  is 
named  Night,  curtained  such  a  Ball-room.  O  if,  according 
to  Seneca,  the  very  gods  look  down  on  a  good  man  struggling 
with  adversity,  and  smile;  what  must  they  think  of  Five- 
and-twenty  million  indifferent  ones  victorious  over  it, — for 
eight  days  and  more  ? 

In  this  way,  and  in  such  ways,  however,  has  the  Feast  of 
Pikes  danced  itself  off :  gallant  Federates  wending  homewards, 
towards  every  point  of  the  compass,  with  feverish  nerves,  heart 
and  head  much  heated ;  some  of  them,  indeed,  as  Damp- 
martin's  elderly  respectable  friend  from  Strasburg,  quite 
'  burnt  out  with  liquors,1  and  flickering  towards  extinction.1 
The  Feast  of  Pikes  has  danced  itself  off,  and  become  defunct, 
and  the  ghost  of  a  Feast ; — nothing  of  it  now  remaining  but 
this  vision  in  men's  memory ;  and  the  place  that  knew  it  (for 
the  slope  of  that  Cham p-de- Mars  is  crumbled  to  half  the 
original  height8)  now  knowing  it  no  more.  Undoubtedly 
one  of  the  memorablest  National  Hightides.  Never  or  hardly 

1  See  his  Lettre  au  Peufle  Frartfois  (London,  1786). 

*  Dampmartin,  Evtnemcns,  i.  144-184. 

*  Dulaure,  Hisloirt  &  Paris,  viii.  25. 


68          THE    FEAST    OF    PIKES     [BK.  I.  CH.  xii. 

ever,  as  we  said,  was  Oath  sworn  with  such  heart-effusion, 
emphasis,  and  expenditure  of  joyance;  and  then  it  was  broken 
irremediably  within  year  and  day.  Ah,  why?  When  the 
swearing  of  it  was  so  heavenly- joyful,  bosom  clasped  to  bosom, 
and  Five-and- twenty  million  hearts  all  burning  together;  O  ye 
inexorable  Destinies,  why  ? — Partly  because  it  was  sworn  with 
such  overjoyance ;  but  chiefly,  indeed,  for  an  older  reason  : 
that  Sin  had  come  into  the  world,  and  Misery  by  Sin  !  These 
Five-and-twenty  millions,  if  we  will  consider  it,  have  now 

'  henceforth,  with  that  Phrygian  Cap  of  theirs,  no  force  over 
them,  to  bind  and  guide ;  neither  in  them,  more  than  here- 
tofore, is  guiding  force,  or  rule  of  just  living :  how  then, 
while  they  all  go  rushing  at  such  a  pace,  on  unknown  ways, 
with  no  bridle,  towards  no  aim,  can  hurlyburly  unutterable 
fail  ?  For  verily  not  Federation-rosepink  is  the  colour  of 
this  Earth  and  her  work :  not  by  outbursts  of  noble-senti- 
ment, but  with  far  other  ammunition,  shall  a  man  front  the 
world. 

But  how  wise,  in  all  cases,  to  '  husband  your  fire ' ;  to  keep 

'  it  deep  down,  rather,  as  genial  radical-heat !  Explosions,  the 
forciblest,  and  never  so  well  directed,  are  questionable ;  far 
oftenest  futile,  always  frightfully  wasteful :  but  think  of  a 
man,  of  a  Nation  of  men,  spending  its  whole  stock  of  fire  in 
one  artificial  Firework !  So  have  we  seen  fond  weddings  (for 
individuals,  like  Nations,  have  their  Hightides)  celebrated 
with  an  outburst  of  triumph  and  deray,  at  which  the  elderly 
shook  their  heads.  Better  had  a  serious  cheerfulness  been ; 
for  the  enterprise  was  great.  Fond  pair !  the  more  triumph- 
ant ye  feel,  and  victorious  over  terrestrial  evil,  which  seems  all 
abolished,  the  wider-eyed  will  your  disappointment  be  to  find 
terrestrial  evil  still  extant.  *  And  why  extant  ? '  will  each  of 
you  cry :  *  Because  my  false  mate  has  played  the  traitor : 
evil  was  abolished ;  I,  for  one,  meant  faithfully,  and  did,  ey 
would  have  done  ! '  Whereby  the  over-sweet  moon  of  honor 
changes  itself  into  long  years  of  vinegar:  perhaps  divulsive 
vinegar,  like  Hannibal's. 


JULY  14-18,  1790]     SOUND    AND    SMOKE  69 

Shall  we  say,  then,  the  French  Nation  has  led  Royalty,  or 
wooed  and  teased  poor  Royalty  to  lead  her,  to  the  hymeneal 
Fatherland's  Altar,  in  such  over-sweet  manner ;  and  has,  most 
thoughtlessly,  to  celebrate  the  nuptials  with  due  shine  and 
demonstration, — burnt  her  bed  ? 


BOOK    SECOND 
NANCI 


CHAPTER    I 
BOUILLE 

DIMLY  visible,  at  Metz  on  the  North-Eastern  frontier,  a 
certain  brave  Bouille,  last  refuge  of  Royalty  in  all  straits  and 
meditations  of  flight,  has  for  many  months  hovered  occasion- 
ally in  our  eye ;  some  name  or  shadow  of  a  brave  Bouille  :  let 
us  now,  for  a  little,  look  fixedly  at  him,  till  he  become  a 
substance  and  person  for  us.  The  man  himself  is  worth  a 
glance ;  his  position  and  procedure  there,  in  these  days,  will 
throw  light  on  many  things. 

For  it  is  with  Bouille  as  with  all  French  Commanding 
Officers ;  only  hi  a  more  emphatic  degree.  The  grand 
National  Federation,  we  already  guess,  was  but  empty  sound, 
» or  worse :  a  last  loudest  universal  Hep-hep-hurrdh,  with  full 
bumpers,  in  that  National  Lapithae-feast  of  Constitution- 
making  ;  as  in  loud  denial  of  the  palpably  existing ;  as  if, 
with  hurrahings,  you  would  shut  out  notice  of  the  inevitable, 
already  knocking  at  the  gates  !  Which  new  National  bumper, 
one  may  say,  can  but  deepen  the  drunkenness ;  and  so,  the 
louder  it  swears  Brotherhood,  will  the  sooner  and  the  more 
surely  lead  to  Cannibalism.  Ah,  under  that  fraternal  shine 
and  clangour,  what  a  deep  world  of  irreconcilable  discords 
lie  momentarily  assuaged,  damped-down  for  one  moment ! 
Respectable  military  Federates  have  barely  got  home  to  their 
quarters ;  and  the  inflammables  t,  *  dying,  burnt  up  with 

70 


1790]  BOUILLE  71 

liquors  and  kindness/  has  not  yet  got  extinct;  the  shine  is 
hardly  out  of  men's  eyes,  and  still  blazes  filling  all  men's 
memories, — when  your  discords  burst  forth  again,  very  con- 
siderably darker  than  ever.  Let  us  look  at  Bouille,  and  see  how. 

Bouille  for  the  present  commands  in  the  Garrison  of  Metz, 
and  far  and  wide  over  the  East  and  North ;  being  indeed,  by 
a  late  act  of  Government  with  sanction  of  National  Assembly, 
appointed  one  of  our  Four  supreme  Generals.  Rochambeau 
and  Mailly,  men  and  Marshals  of  note  in  these  days,  though 
to  us  of  small  moment,  are  two  of  his  colleagues ;  tough  old 
babbling  Liickner,  also  of  small  moment  for  us,  will  probably 
be  the  third.  Marquis  de  Bouille'  is  a  determined  Loyalist ; 
not  indeed  disinclined  to  moderate  reform,  but  resolute  against 
immoderate.  A  man  long  suspect  to  Patriotism ;  who  has 
more  than  once  given  the  august  Assembly  trouble ;  who 
would  not,  for  example,  take  the  National  Oath,  as  he  was 
bound  to  do,  but  always  put  it  off  on  this  or  the  other  pretext, 
till  an  autograph  of  Majesty  requested  him  to  do  it  as  a 
favour.  There,  in  this  post,  if  not  of  honour  yet  of  eminence 
and  danger,  he  waits,  in  a  silent  concentred  manner;  very 
dubious  of  the  future.  *  Alone,'  as  he  says,  or  almost  alone, 
of  all  the  old  military  Notabilities,  he  has  not  emigrated ; 
but  thinks  always,  in  atrabiliar  moments,  that  there  will  be 
nothing  for  him  too  but  to  cross  the  marches.  He  might 
cross,  say,  to  Treves  or  Coblentz,  where  Exiled  Princes  will  be 
one  day  ranking ;  or  say,  over  into  Luxemburg,  where  old 
Broglie  loiters  and  languishes.  Or  is  there  not  the  great  dim 
Deep  of  European  Diplomacy ;  where  your  Calonnes,  your 
Breteuils  are  beginning  to  hover,  dimly  discernible  ? 

With  immeasurable  confused  outlooks  and  purposes,  with 
no  clear  purpose  but  this  of  still  trying  to  do  his  Majesty  a 
service,  Bouille'  waits ;  struggling  what  he  can  to  keep  his 
district  loyal,  his  troops  faithful,  his  garrisons  furnished.  He 
maintains,  as  yet,  with  his  Cousin  Lafayette  some  thin  diplo- 
matic correspondence,  by  letter  and  messenger ;  chivalrous 
constitutional  professions  on  the  one  side,  military  gravity  and 


72  N  A  N  C I  [BK.  n.  CH.  n. 

brevity  on  the  other ;  which  thin  correspondence  one  can  see 
growing  ever  the  thinner  and  hollower,  towards  the  verge  of 
entire  vacuity.1  A  quick,  choleric,  sharply  discerning,  stub- 
bornly endeavouring  man ;  with  suppressed-explosive  resolu- 
tion, with  valour,  nay  headlong  audacity :  a  man  who  was 
more  in  his  place,  lionlike  defending  those  Windward  Isles,  or, 
as  with  military  tiger-spring,  clutching  Nevis  and  Montserrat 
from  the  English, — than  here  in  this  suppressed  condition, 
muzzled  and  fettered  by  diplomatic  packthreads ;  looking  out 
for  a  civil  war,  which  may  never  arrive.  Few  years  ago 
Bouille'  was  to  have  led  a  French  East-Indian  Expedition,  and 
reconquered  or  conquered  Pondicherry  and  the  Kingdoms  of 
the  Sun :  but  the  whole  world  is  suddenly  changed,  and  he 
with  it ;  Destiny  willed  it  not  in  that  way,  but  in  this. 


CHAPTER    II 
ARREARS   AND   ARISTOCRATS 

INDEED,  as  to  the  general  outlook  of  things,  Bouille'  himself 
augurs  not  well  of  it.  The  French  Army,  ever  since  those  old 
Bastille  days,  and  earlier,  has  been  universally  in  the  question- 
ablest  state,  and  growing  daily  worse.  Discipline,  which  is  at 
all  times  a  kind  of  miracle,  and  works  by  faith,  broke  down 
then;  one  sees  not  with  what  near  prospect  of  recovering  itself. 
The  Gardes  Francaises  played  a  deadly  game ;  but  how  they 
won  it,  and  wear  the  prizes  of  it,  all  men  know.  In  that 
general  overturn,  we  saw  the  hired  Fighters  refuse  to  fight. 
The  very  Swiss  of  Chateau- Vieux,  which  indeed  is  a  kind  of 
French  Swiss,  from  Geneva  and  the  Pays  de  Vaud,  are  under- 
stood to  have  declined.  Deserters  glided  over ;  Royal- 
Allemand  itself  looked  disconsolate,  though  stanch  of  purpose. 
In  a  word,  we  there  saw  Military  Rule,  in  the  shape  of  poor 
Besenval  with  that  convulsive  unmanageable  Camp  of  his,  pass 
1  Bouilll,  Mtmoircs  (London,  1797),  i.  c.  8. 


1790]       ARREARS    AND    ARISTOCRATS  73 

two  martyr-days  on  the  Champ-de-Mars  ;  and  then,  veiling 
itself,  so  to  speak,  *  under  cloud  of  night,'  depart  *  down  the 
left  bank  of  the  Seine,'  to  seek  refuge  elsewhere ;  this  ground 
having  clearly  become  too  hot  for  it. 

But  what  new  ground  to  seek,  what  remedy  to  try? 
Quarters  that  were  '  uninfected ' :  this  doubtless,  with  judi- 
cious strictness  of  drilling,  were  the  plan.  Alas,  in  all  quarters 
and  places,  from  Paris  onward  to  the  remotest  hamlet,  is 
infection,  is  seditious  contagion  :  inhaled,  propagated  by 
contact  and  converse,  till  the  dullest  soldier  catch  it !  There 
is  speech  of  men  in  uniform  with  men  not  in  uniform  ;  men 
in  uniform  read  journals,  and  even  write  in  them. l  There 
are  public  petitions  or  remonstrances,  private  emissaries  and 
associations ;  there  is  discontent,  jealousy,  uncertainty,  sullen 
suspicious  humour.  The  whole  French  Army,  fermenting  in 
dark  heat,  glooms  ominous,  boding  good  to  no  one. 

So  that,  in  the  general  social  dissolution  and  revolt,  we  are 
to  have  this  deepest  and  dismalest  kind  of  it,  a  revolting 
soldiery  ?  Barren,  desolate  to  look  upon  is  this  ^inie  business 
of  revolt  under  all  its  aspects;  but  how  infinitely  more  so,  when 
it  takes  the  aspect  of  military  mutiny !  The  very  implement 
of  rule  and  restraint,  whereby  all  the  rest  was  managed  and 
held  in  order,  has  become  precisely  the  frightfulest  immeasur- 
able implement  of  misrule ;  like  the  element  of  Fire,  our 
indispensable  all-ministering  servant,  when  it  gets  the  mastery, 
and  becomes  conflagration.  Discipline  we  called  a  kind  of 
miracle  :  in  fact,  is  it  not  miraculous  how  one  man  moves 
hundreds  of  thousands ;  each  unit  of  whom,  it  may  be,  loves 
him  not,  and  singly  fears  him  not,  yet  has  to  obey  him,  to  go 
hither  or  go  thither,  to  march  and  halt,  to  give  death,  and 
even  to  receive  it,  as  if  a  Fate  had  spoken ;  and  the  word-of- 
command  becomes,  almost  in  the  literal  sense,  a  magic- word  ? 

Which  magic-word,  again,  if  it  be  once  forgotten ;  the  spell 
of  it  once  broken  !  The  legions  of  assiduous  ministering 
spirits  rise  on  you  now  as  menacing  fiends ;  your  free  orderly 
1  See  Newspaper!  of  July  1789  (in  Hist.  Purl.  ii.  35),  etc 


74  N  A  N  C I  [BK.  n.  CH.  n. 

arena  becomes  a  tumult-place  of  the  Nether  Pit,  and  the  hap- 
less magician  is  rent  limb  from  limb.  Military  mobs  are 
mobs  with  muskets  in  their  hands  ;  and  also  with  death  hang- 
ing over  their  heads,  for  death  is  the  penalty  of  disobedience, 
and  they  have  disobeyed.  And  now  if  all  mobs  are  properly 
frenzies,  and  work  frenetically  with  mad  fits  of  hot  and  of 
cold,  fierce  rage  alternating  so  incoherently  with  panic  terror, 
consider  what  your  military  mob  will  be,  with  such  a  conflict 
of  duties  and  penalties,  whirled  between  remorse  and  fury,  and, 
for  the  hot  fit,  loaded  fire-arms  in  its  hand  !  To  the  soldier 
himself,  revolt  is  frightful,  and  oftenest  perhaps  pitiable ;  and 
yet  so  dangerous,  it  can  only  be  hated,  cannot  be  pitied:  An 
anomalous  class  of  mortals  these  poor  Hired  Killers  !  With  a 
frankness,  which  to  the  Moralist  in  these  times  seems  surpris- 
ing, they  have  sworn  to  become  machines ;  and  nevertheless 
they  are  still  partly  men.  Let  no  prudent  person  in  autho- 
rity remind  them  of  this  latter  fact ;  but  always  let  force, 
let  injustice  above  all,  stop  short  clearly  on  this  side  of  the 
rebounding-point !  Soldiers,  as  we  often  say,  do  revolt :  were 
it  not  so,  several  things  which  are  transient  in  this  world 
might  be  perennial. 

Over  and  above  the  general  quarrel  which  all  sons  of  Adam 
maintain  with  their  lot  here  below,  the  grievances  of  the  French 
soldiery  reduce  themselves  to  two.  First,  that  their  Officers 
are  Aristocrats ;  secondly,  that  they  cheat  them  of  their  Pay. 
Two  grievances ;  or  rather  we  might  say  one,  capable  of 
becoming  a  hundred ;  for  in  that  single  first  proposition,  that 
the  Officers  are  Aristocrats,  what  a  multitude  of  corollaries  lie 
ready  !  It  is  a  bottomless  ever-flowing  fountain  of  grievances 
this ;  what  you  may  call  a  general  raw-material  of  grievance, 
wherefrom  individual  grievance  after  grievance  will  daily  body 
itself  forth.  Nay  there  will  even  be  a  kind  of  comfort  in 
getting  it,  from  time  to  time,  so  embodied.  Peculation  of 
one's  Pay !  It  is  embodied ;  made  tangible,  made  denounce- 
able ;  exhalable,  if  only  in  angry  words. 


1790]       ARREARS    AND    ARISTOCRATS  75- 

For  unluckily  that  grand  fountain  of  grievances  does  exist : 
Aristocrats  almost  all  our  Officers  necessarily  are ;  they  have 
it  in  the  blood  and  bone.  By  the  law  of  the  case,  no  man 
can  pretend  to  be  the  pitifulest  lieutenant  of  militia  till  he 
have  first  verified,  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  Lion-King,  a 
Nobility  of  four  generations.  Not  nobility  only,  but  four 
generations  of  it :  this  latter  is  the  improvement  hit  upon, 
in  comparatively  late  years,  by  a  certain  War-minister  much 
pressed  for  commissions.1  An  improvement  which  did  relieve 
the  oppressed  War-minister,  but  which  split  France  still 
further  into  yawning  contrasts  of  Commonalty  and  Nobility, 
nay  of  new  Nobility  and  old ;  as  if  already  with  your  new  and 
old,  and  then  with  your  old,  older,  and  oldest,  there  were  not 
contrasts  and  discrepancies  enough ; — the  general  clash  whereof 
men  now  see  and  hear,  and  in  the  singular  whirlpool,  all  con- 
trasts gone  together  to  the  bottom  !  Gone  to  the  bottom  or 
going ;  with  uproar,  without  return ;  going  everywhere  save 
in  the  Military  section  of  things ;  and  there,  it  may  be  asked, 
can  they  hope  to  continue  always  at  the  top  ?  Apparently, 
not. 

It  is  true,  in  a  time  of  external  Peace,  when  there  is  no 
fighting,  but  only  drilling,  this  question,  How  you  rise  from 
the  ranks,  may  seem  theoretical  rather.  But  in  reference  to 
the  Rights  of  Man  it  is  continually  practical.  The  soldier 
has  sworn  to  be  faithful  not  to  the  King  only,  but  to  the  Law 
and  the  Nation.  Do  our  commanders  love  the  Revolution  ? 
ask  all  soldiers.  Unhappily  no,  they  hate  it,  and  love  the 
Counter-Revolution.  Young  epauletted  men,  with  quality- 
blood  in  them,  poisoned  with  quality-pride,  do  sniff  openly, 
with  indignation  struggling  to  become  contempt,  at  our 
Rights  of  Man,  as  at  some  newfangled  cobweb,  which  shall  be 
brushed  down  again.  Old  Officers,  more  cautious,  keep  silent, 
with  closed  uncurled  lips ;  but  one  guesses  what  is  passing 
within.  Nay  who  knows,  how,  under  the  plausiblest  word  of 
command,  might  lie  Counter-Revolution  itself,  sale  to  Exiled 

1  Dampmartin,  Evtnetnens,  L  80. 


76  N  A  N  C I  [BK.  n.  CH.  n. 

Princes  and  the  Austrian  Kaiser:  treacherous  Aristocrats 
hoodwinking  the  small  insight  of  us  common  men  ? — In  such 
manner  works  that  general  raw-material  of  grievance ;  dis- 
astrous ;  instead  of  trust  and  reverence,  breeding  hate,  endless 
suspicion,  the  impossibility  of  commanding  and  obeying.  And 
now  when  this  second  more  tangible  grievance  has  articulated 
itself  universally  in  the  mind  of  the  common  man  :  Peculation 
of  his  Pay !  Peculation  of  the  despicablest  sort  does  exist, 
and  has  long  existed ;  but,  unless  the  new-declared  Rights  of 
Man,  and  all  rights  whatsoever,  be  a  cobweb,  it  shall  no 
longer  exist. 

The  French  Military  System  seems  dying  a  sorrowful 
suicidal  death.  Nay  more,  citizen,  as  is  natural,  ranks  him- 
self against  citizen  in  this  cause.  The  soldier  finds  audience, 
of  numbers  and  sympathy  unlimited,  among  the  Patriot  lower- 
classes.  Nor  are  the  higher  wanting  to  the  officer.  The 
officer  still  dresses  and  perfumes  himself  for  such  sad  unemi- 
grated  soirte  as  there  may  still  be;  and  speaks  his  woes, — 
which  woes,  are  they  not  Majesty's  and  Nature's  ?  Speaks, 
at  the  same  time,  his  gay  defiance,  his  firm-set  resolution. 
Citizens,  still  more  Citizenesses,  see  the  right  and  the  wrong ; 
not  the  Military  System  alone  will  die  by  suicide,  but  much 
along  with  it.  As  was  said,  there  is  yet  possible  a  deeper 
overturn  than  any  yet  witnessed :  that  deepest  upturn  of  the 
black -burning  sulphurous  stratum  whereon  all  rests  and 
grows  ! 

But  how  these  things  may  act  on  the  rude  soldier-mind, 
with  its  military  pedantries,  its  inexperience  of  all  that  lies  off 
the  parade-ground  ;  inexperience  as  of  a  child,  yet  fierceness  of 
a  man,  and  vehemence  of  a  Frenchman !  It  is  long  that 
secret  communings  in  mess-room  and  guard-room,  sour  looks, 
thousandfold  petty  vexations  between  commander  and  com- 
manded, measure  everywhere  the  weary  military  day.  Ask 
Captain  Dampmartin  ;  an  authentic,  ingenious  literary  officer 
of  horse ;  who  loves  the  Reign  of  Liberty,  after  a  sort :  yet 
has  had  his  heart  grieved  to  the  quick  many  times,  in  the  hot 


1790]       ARREARS    AND    ARISTOCRATS  77 

South- Western  region  and  elsewhere ;  and  has  seen  riot,  civil 
battle  by  daylight  and  by  torchlight,  and  anarchy  hatefuler 
than  death.  How  insubordinate  Troopers,  with  drink  in 
their  heads,  meet  Captain  Dampmartin  and  another  on  the 
ramparts,  where  there  is  no  escape  or  side-path ;  and  make 
military  salute  punctually,  for  we  look  calm  on  them ;  yet 
make  it  in  a  snappish,  almost  insulting  manner :  how  one 
morning  they  *  leave  all  their  chamois-shirts '  and  superfluous 
buffs,  which  they  are  tired  of,  laid  in  piles  at  the  Captains' 
doors ;  whereat  *  we  laugh,'  as  the  ass  does  eating  thistles  : 
nay  how  they  *  knot  two  forage-cords  together,'  with  universal 
noisy  cursing,  with  evident  intent  to  hang  the  Quartermaster  : 
— all  this  the  worthy  Captain,  looking  on  it  through  the 
ruddy-and-sable  of  fond  regretful  memory,  has  flowingly 
written  down.1  Men  growl  in  vague  discontent ;  officers  fling 
up  their  commissions  and  emigrate  in  disgust. 

Or  let  us  ask  another  literary  Officer ;  not  yet  Captain  ; 
Sublieutenant  only,  in  the  Artillery  Regiment  La  Fere  :  a 
young  man  of  twenty-one  ;  not  unentitled  to  speak  ;  the  name 
of  him  is  Napoleon  Buonaparte.  To  such  height  of  Sub- 
lieutenancy  has  he  now  got  promoted,  from  Brienne  School, 
five  years  ago ;  *  being  found  qualified  in  mathematics  by 
La  Place.'  He  is  lying  at  Auxonne,  in  the  West,  in  these 
months  ;  not  sumptuously  lodged — '  in  the  house  of  a  Barber, 
to  whose  wife  he  did  not  pay  the  customary  degree  of  respect11; 
or  even  over  at  the  Pavilion,  in  a  chamber  with  bare  walls ; 
the  only  furniture  an  indifferent  *  bed  without  curtains,  two 
chairs,  and  in  the  recess  of  a  window  a  table  covered  with 
books  and  papers  :  his  Brother  Louis  sleeps  on  a  coarse 
mattress  in  an  adjoining  room.'  However,  he  is  doing  some- 
thing great :  writing  his  first  Book  or  Pamphlet, — eloquent 
vehement  Letter  to  M.  Matteo  Buttqfuoco,  our  Corsican 
Deputy,  who  is  not  a  Patriot,  but  an  Aristocrat  unworthy 
of  Deputyship.  Joly  of  Dole  is  Publisher.  The  literary 
Sublieutenant  corrects  the  proofs ;  '  sets  out  on  foot  from 

1  Dampmartin,  Evenen:ens,  i.  122-146. 


78  N  A  N  C I  [BK.  n.  CH.  n. 

Auxonne  every  morning  at  four  o'clock,  for  Dole :  after  look- 
ing over  the  proofs,  he  partakes  of  an  extremely  frugal  break- 
fast with  Joly,  and  immediately  prepares  for  returning  to  his 
Garrison ;  where  he  arrives  before  noon,  having  thus  walked 
above  twenty  miles  in  the  course  of  the  morning.' 

This  Sublieutenant  can  remark  that,  in  drawing-rooms,  on 
streets,  on  highways,  at  inns,  everywhere  men's  minds  are 
ready  to  kindle  into  a  flame.  That  a  Patriot,  if  he  appear  in 
the  drawing-room,  or  amid  a  group  of  officers,  is  liable  enough 
to  be  discouraged,  so  great  is  the  majority  against  him  :  but 
no  sooner  does  he  get  into  the  street,  or  among  the  soldiers, 
than  he  feels  again  as  if  the  whole  Nation  were  with  him. 
That  after  the  famous  Oath,  To  the  King,  to  the  Nation,  and 
Law,  there  was  a  great  change ;  that  before  this,  if  ordered 
to  fire  on  the  people,  he  for  one  would  have  done  it  in  the 
King's  name  ;  but  that  after  this,  in  the  Nation's  name,  he 
would  not  have  done  it.  Likewise  that  the  Patriot  officers, 
more  numerous  too  in  the  Artillery  and  Engineers  than  else- 
where, were  few  in  number ;  yet  that  having  the  soldiers  on 
their  side,  they  ruled  the  regiment ;  and  did  often  deliver 
the  Aristocrat  brother  officer  out  of  peril  and  strait.  One 
day,  for  example,  ca  member  of  our  own  mess  roused  the 
mob,  by  singing,  from  the  windows  of  our  dining-room, 
O  Richard,  O  my  King;  and  I  had  to  snatch  him  from 
their  fury/1 

All  which  let  the  reader  multiply  by  ten  thousand  ;  and 
spread  it,  with  slight  variations,  over  all  the  camps  and 
garrisons  of  France.  The  French  Army  seems  on  the  verge 
of  universal  mutiny. 

Universal  mutiny !  There  is  in  that  what  may  well  make 
Patriot  Constitutionalism  and  an  august  Assembly  shudder. 
Something  behoves  to  be  done;  yet  what  to  do  no  man  can 
tell.  Mirabeau  proposes  even  that  the  Soldiery,  having  come  to 
such  a  pass,  be  forthwith  disbanded,  the  whole  Two  Hundred 

1  Norvins,  Histoire  de  Napoleon,  i.  47 ;  Las  Cases,  Mtmoirts  (translated  into 
Hazlitt's  Life  of  Napoleon,  L  23-31). 


AUG.  1790]        BOUILLE    AT    METZ  79 

and  Eighty  Thousand  of  them ;  and  organised  anew.1  Im- 
possible this,  in  so  sudden  a  manner  !  cry  all  men.  And  yet 
literally,  answer  we,  it  is  inevitable,  in  one  manner  or  another. 
Such  an  army,  with  its  four-generation  Nobles,  its  peculated 
Pay,  and  men  knotting  forage-cords  to  hang  their  Quarter- 
master, cannot  subsist  beside  such  a  Revolution.  Your 
alternative  is  a  slow-pining  chronic  dissolution  and  new 
organisation ;  or  a  swift  decisive  one ;  the  agonies  spread 
over  years,  or  concentred  into  an  hour.  With  a  Mirabeau  for 
Minister  or  Governor,  the  latter  had  been  the  choice ;  with 
no  Mirabeau  for  Governor,  it  will  naturally  be  the  former. 


CHAPTER   III 
BOUILLE  AT   METZ 

To  BoiiiHe*,  in  his  North-Eastern  circle,  none  of  these  things 
are  altogether  hid.  Many  times  flight  over  the  marches 
gleams  out  on  him  as  a  last  guidance  in  such  bewilderment : 
nevertheless  he  continues  here  ;  struggling  always  to  hope  the 
best,  not  from  new  organisation,  but  from  happy  Counter- 
Revolution  and  return  to  the  old.  For  the  rest,  it  is  clear  to 
him  that  this  same  National  Federation,  and  universal  swearing 
and  fraternising  of  People  and  Soldiers,  has  done  '  incalculable 
mischief.'  So  much  that  fermented  secretly  has  hereby  got 
vent,  and  become  open  :  National  Guards  and  Soldiers  of  the 
line,  solemnly  embracing  one  another  on  all  parade-fields, 
drinking,  swearing  patriotic  oaths,  fall  into  disorderly  street- 
processions,  constitutional  unmilitary  exclamations  and  hurrah- 
ings.  On  which  account  the  Regiment  Picardie,  for  one,  has 
to  be  drawn  out  in  the  square  of  the  barracks,  here  at  Metz, 
and  sharply  harangued  by  the  General  himself;  but  expresses 
penitence.2 

Far  and  near,  as  accounts  testify,  insubordination  has  begun 

1  Moniteur,  1790,  No.  233.  '  Bouilll,  Memoiru,  i.  113. 


80  N  A  N  C I  [BK.  n.  CH.  IIL 

grumbling  louder  and  louder.  Officers  have  been  seen  shut 
up  in  their  mess-rooms  ;  assaulted  with  clamorous  demands, 
not  without  menaces.  The  insubordinate  ringleader  is  dis- 
missed with  *  yellow  furlough,'  yellow  infamous  thing  they  call 
cartouche  jaune :  but  ten  new  ringleaders  rise  in  his  stead,  and 
the  yellow  cartouche  ceases  to  be  thought  disgraceful.  *  Within 
a  fortnight,''  or  at  furthest  a  month,  of  that  sublime  Feast  of 
Pikes,  the  whole  French  Army,  demanding  Arrears,  forming 
Reading  Clubs,  frequenting  Popular  Societies,  is  in  a  state 
which  Bouille  can  call  by  no  name  but  that  of  mutiny. 
Bouille  knows  it  as  few  do ;  and  speaks  by  dire  experience. 
Take  one  instance  instead  of  many. 

It  is  still  an  early  day  of  August,  the  precise  date  now 
undiscoverable,  when  Bouille,  about  to  set  out  for  the  waters 
of  Aix-la-Chapelle,  is  once  more  suddenly  summoned  to  the 
barracks  of  Metz.  The  soldiers  stand  ranged  in  fighting 
order,  muskets  loaded,  the  officers  all  there  on  compulsion ; 
and  required  with  many-voiced  emphasis  to  have  their  arrears 
paid.  Picardie  was  penitent ;  but  we  see  it  has  relapsed  : 
the  wide  space  bristles  and  lours  with  mere  mutinous  armed 
men.  Brave  Bouille  advances  to  the  nearest  Regiment,  opens 
his  commanding  lips  to  harangue ;  obtains  nothing  but  queru- 
lous-indignant discordance,  and  the  sound  of  so  many  thousand 
livres  legally  due.  The  moment  is  trying ;  there  are  some 
ten  thousand  soldiers  now  in  Metz,  and  one  spirit  seems  to 
have  spread  among  them. 

Bouille  is  firm  as  the  adamant ;  but  what  shall  he  do  ?  A 
German  Regiment,  named  of  Salm,  is  thought  to  be  of  better 
temper  :  nevertheless  Salm  too  may  have  heard  of  the  precept, 
Thou,  shalt  not  steal ;  Salm  too  may  know  that  money  is 
money.  Bouille  walks  trustfully  towards  the  Regiment  de 
Salm,  speaks  trustful  words ;  but  here  again  is  answered  by 
the  cry  of  forty-four  thousand  livres  odd  sous.  A  cry  waxing 
more  and  more  vociferous,  as  Salm's  humour  mounts ;  which 
cry,  as  it  will  produce  no  cash  or  promise  of  cash,  ends  in  the 
wide  simultaneous  whirr  of  shouldered  muskets,  and  a  deter- 


AUG.  1790]        BOUILLE    AT    METZ  81 

mined  quick-time  march  on  the  part  of  Salm — towards  its 
Colonel's  house,  in  the  next  street,  there  to  seize  the  colours 
and  military  chest.  Thus  does  Salm,  for  its  part ;  strong  in 
the  faith  that  mewm  is  not  tuum,  that  fair  speeches  are  not 
forty-four  thousand  livres  odd  sous. 

Unrestrainable !  Salm  tramps  to  military  time,  quick  con- 
suming the  way.  Bouille  and  the  officers,  drawing  sword,  have 
to  dash  into  double-quick  pas-de-char ge>  or  unmilitary  running; 
to  get  the  start ;  to  station  themselves  on  the  outer  staircase, 
and  stand  there  with  what  of  death-defiance  and  sharp  steel 
they  have ;  Salm  truculently  coiling  itself  up,  rank  after  rank, 
opposite  them,  in  such  humour  as  we  can  fancy,  which  happily 
has  not  yet  mounted  to  the  murder-pitch.  There  will  BoiiiHe" 
stand,  certain  at  least  of  one  man's  purpose  :  in  grim  calmness, 
awaiting  the  issue.  What  the  intrepidest  of  men  and  generals 
can  do  is  done.  Bouille,  though  there  is  a  barricading  picket 
at  each  end  of  the  street,  and  death  under  his  eyes,  contrives 
to  send  for  a  Dragoon  Regiment  with  orders  to  charge :  the 
dragoon  officers  mount ;  the  dragoon  men  will  not :  hope  is 
none  there  for  him.  The  street,  as  we  say,  barricaded ;  the 
Earth  all  shut  out,  only  the  indifferent  heavenly  Vault  (Tver- 
head  :  perhaps  here  or  there  a  timorous  householder  peering 
out  of  window,  with  prayer  for  Bouille ;  copious  Rascality,  on 
the  pavement,  with  prayer  for  Salm  :  there  do  the  two  parties 
stand  ; — like  chariots  locked  in  a  narrow  thoroughfare  ;  like 
locked  wrestlers  at  a  dead-grip  !  For  two  hours  they  stand  : 
Bouille^s  sword  glittering  in  his  hand,  adamantine  resolution 
clouding  his  brows  •  for  two  hours  by  the  clocks  of  Metz. 
Moody-silent  stands  Salm,  with  occasional  clangour ;  but 
does  not  fire.  Rascality,  from  time  to  time,  urges  some 
grenadier  to  level  his  musket  at  the  General ;  who  looks  on  it 
as  a  bronze  General  would  :  and  always  some  corporal  or 
other  strikes  it  up. 

In  such  remarkable  attitude,  standing  on  that  staircase  for 
two  hours,  does  brave  Bouille1,  long  a  shadow,  dawn  on  us 
visibly  out  of  the  dimness,  and  become  a  person.  For  the 

VOL.  n.  F 


82  N  A  N  C I  [BK.  n.  CH.  in. 

rest,  since  Salm  has  not  shot  him  at  the  first  instant,  and 
since  in  himself  there  is  no  variableness,  the  danger  will 
diminish.  The  Mayor,  *  a  man  infinitely  respectable,'  with 
his  Municipals  and  tricolor  sashes,  finally  gains  entrance ; 
remonstrates,  perorates,  promises ;  gets  Salm  persuaded  home 
to  its  barracks.  Next  day,  our  respectable  Mayor  lending 
the  money,  the  officers  pay-down  the  half  of  the  demand  in 
ready  cash.  With  which  liquidation  Salm  pacifies  itself;  and 
for  the  present  all  is  hushed  up,  as  much  as  may  be.1 

Such  scenes  as  this  of  Metz,  or  preparations  and  demonstra- 
tions towards  such,  are  universal  over  France :  Dampmartin, 
with  his  knotted  forage-cords  and  piled  chamois-jackets,  is  at 
Strasburg,  in  the  South-East ;  in  these  same  days  or  rather 
n  ights,  Royal  Champagne  is  *  shouting  Vive  la  Nation,  au 
diable  les  Aristocrates,  with  some  thirty  lit  candles,'  at  Hesdin, 
on  the  far  North- West.  '  The  garrison  of  Bitche,'  Deputy 
Rewbell  is  sorry  to  state,  '  went  out  of  the  town  with  drums 
beating ;  deposed  its  officers ;  and  then  returned  into  the 
town,  sabre  in  hand.'2  Ought  not  a  National  Assembly  to 
occupy  itself  with  these  objects  ?  Military  France  is  every- 
where full  of  sour  inflammatory  humour,  which  exhales  itself 
fuliginously,  this  way  or  that :  a  whole  continent  of  smoking 
flax ;  which,  blown  on  here  or  there  by  any  angry  wind, 
might  so  easily  start  into  a  blaze,  into  a  continent  of  fire. 

Constitutional  Patriotism  is  in  deep  natural  alarm  at  these 
things.  The  august  Assembly  sits  diligently  deliberating; 
dare  nowise  resolve,  with  Mirabeau,  on  an  instantaneous  dis- 
bandment  and  extinction ;  finds  that  a  course  of  palliatives  is 
easier.  But  at  least  and  lowest,  this  grievance  of  the  Arrears 
shall  be  rectified.  A  plan,  much  noised  of  in  those  days, 
under  the  name  *  Decree  of  the  Sixth  of  August,'  has  been 
devised  for  that.  Inspectors  shall  visit  all  armies  ;  and,  with 
certain  elected  corporals  and  *  soldiers  able  to  write,'  verify 
what  arrears  and  peculations  do  lie  due,  and  make  them  good. 
1  Bouill£,  i.  140-5.  a  Monittur  (in  Hist.  Parl.  vii.  29). 


AUG.  1790]      ARREARS    AT    NANCI  83 

Well  if  in  this  way  the  smoky  heat  be  cooled  down ;  if  it  be 
not,  as  we  say,  ventilated  over-much,  or,  by  sparks  and 
collision  somewhere,  sent  up  ! 


CHAPTER   IV 

ARREARS   AT   NANCI 

WE  are  to  remark,  however,  that  of  all  districts,  this  of 
Bouille's  seems  the  inflammablest.  It  was  always  to  Bouille' 
and  Metz  that  Royalty  would  fly :  Austria  lies  near ;  here 
more  than  elsewhere  must  the  disunited  People  look  over  tiuJ 
borders,  into  a  dim  sea  of  Foreign  Politics  and  Diplomacies, 
with  hope  or  apprehension,  with  mutual  exasperation. 

It  was  but  in  these  days  that  certain  Austrian  troops, 
marching  peaceably  across  an  angle  of  this  region,  seemed  an 
Invasion  realised ;  and  there  rushed  towards  Stenai,  with 
musket  on  shoulder,  from  all  the  winds,  some  thirty  thousand 
National  Guards,  to  inquire  what  the  matter  was.1  A  matter 
of  mere  diplomacy  it  proved ;  the  Austrian  Kaiser,  in  haste 
to  get  to  Belgium,  had  bargained  for  this  short  cut.  The 
infinite  dim  movement  of  European  Politics  waved  a  skirt 
over  these  spaces,  passing  on  its  way ;  like  the  passing  shadow 
of  a  condor;  and  such  a  winged  flight  of  thirty  thousand, 
with  mixed  cackling  and  crowing,  rose  in  consequence  !  For, 
in  addition  to  all,  this  peop'e,  as  we  said,  is  much  divided : 
Aristocrats  abound ;  Patriotism  has  both  Aristocrats  and 
Austrians  to  watch.  It  is  Lorraine,  this  region ;  not  so 
illuminated  as  old  France  :  it  remembers  ancient  Feudalisms . 
nay  within  man's  memory  it  had  a  Court  and  King  of  its  own, 
or  indeed  the  splendour  of  a  Court  and  King,  without  the 
burden.  Then,  contrariwise,  the  Mother  Society,  which  sits 
in  the  Jacobins  Church  at  Paris,  has  Daughters  in  the  Towns 
.here  ;  shrill-tongued,  driven  acrid  :  consider  how  the  memory 
1  Monitcur,  Stance  da  9  Aofit  1790. 


84  N  A  N  C I  [BK.  n.  CH.  iv, 

of  good  King  Stanislaus,  and  ages  of  Imperial  Feudalism,  may 
comport  with  this  New  acrid  Evangel,  and  what  a  virulence 
of  discord  there  may  be  !  In  all  which,  the  Soldiery,  officers 
on  one  side,  private  men  on  the  other,  takes  part,  and  now 
indeed  principal  part ;  a  Soldiery,  moreover,  all  the  hotter 
here  as  it  lies  the  denser,  the  frontier  Province  requiring  more 
of  it. 

So  stands  Lorraine :  but  the  capital  City  more  especially 
so.  The  pleasant  City  of  Nanci,  which  faded  Feudalism  loves, 
where  King  Stanislaus  personally  dwelt  and  shone,  has  an 
Aristocrat  Municipality,  and  then  also  a  Daughter  Society : 
i.t  has  some  forty  thousand  divided  souls  of  population  ;  and 
three  large  Regiments,  one  of  which  is  Swiss  Chateau- Vieux, 
dear  to  Patriotism  ever  since  it  refused  fighting,  or  was  thought 
to  refuse,  in  the  Bastille  days.  Here  unhappily  all  evil  influ- 
ences seem  to  meet  concentred ;  here,  of  all  places,  may 
jealousy  and  heat  evolve  itself.  These  many  months,  accord- 
ingly, man  has  been  set  against  man,  Washed  against  Un- 
washed ;  Patriot  Soldier  against  Aristocrat  Captain,  ever  the 
more  bitterly:  and  a  long  score  of  grudges  has  been  running  up. 

Nameable  grudges,  and  likewise  unnameable :  for  there  is 
a  punctual  nature  in  Wrath ;  and  daily,  were  there  but 
glances  of  the  eye,  tones  of  the  voice,  and  minutest  commis- 
sions or  omissions,  it  will  jot-down  somewhat,  to  account, 
under  the  head  of  sundries,  which  always  swells  the  sum-total. 
For  example,  in  April  last,  in  these  times  of  preliminary  Fede- 
ration, when  National  Guards  and  Soldiers  were  everywhere 
swearing  brotherhood,  and  all  France  was  locally  federating, 
preparing  for  the  grand  National  Feast  of  Pikes,  it  was  observed 
that  these  Nanci  Officers  threw  cold  water  on  the  whole 
brotherly  business  ;  that  they  first  hung  back  from  appearing 
at  the  Nanci  Federation ;  then  did  appear,  but  in  mere  rtdin- 
gote  and  undress,  with  scarcely  a  clean  shirt  on ;  nay  that  one 
of  them,  as  the  National  Colours  flaunted  by  in  that  solemn 
moment,  did,  without  visible  necessity,  take  occasion  to  spit.1 
1  Deux  Amis,  v.  217. 


AUG.  1790]      ARREARS    AT    NANCI  85 

Small  *  sundries  as  per  journal,1  but  then  incessant  ones ! 
The  Aristocrat  Municipality,  pretending  to  be  Constitutional, 
keeps  mostly  quiet ;  not  so  the  Daughter  Society,  the  five- 
thousand  adult  male  Patriots  of  the  place,  still  less  the  five 
thousand  female :  not  so  the  young,  whiskered  or  whiskerless, 
four-generation  Noblesse  in  epaulettes  ;  the  grim  Patriot  Swiss 
of  Chateau- Vieux,  effervescent  infant  of  Regiment  du  Roi,  hot 
troopers  of  Mestre-de-Camp  !  Walled  Nanci,  which  stands 
so  bright  and  trim,  with  its  straight  streets,  spacious  squares, 
and  Stanislaus1  Architecture,  on  the  fruitful  alluvium  of  the 
Meurthe ;  so  bright,  amid  the  yellow  cornfields  in  these 
Reaper-Months, — is  inwardly  but  a  den  of  discord,  anxiety, 
inflammability,  not  far  from  exploding.  Let  Bouille  look  to 
it.  If  that  universal  military  heat,  which  we  liken  to  a  vast 
continent  of  smoking  flax,  do  anywhere  take  fire,  his  beard, 
here  in  Lorraine  and  Nanci,  may  the  most  readily  of  all  get 
singed  by  it. 

Bouille,  for  his  part,  is  busy  enough,  but  only  with  the 
general  superintendence ;  getting  his  pacified  Salm,  and  all 
other  still  tolerable  Regiments,  marched  out  of  Metz,  to 
southward  towns  and  villages ;  to  rural  Cantonments  as  at 
Vic,  Marsal  and  thereabout,  by  the  still  waters ;  where  is 
plenty  of  horse-forage,  sequestered  parade-ground,  and  the 
soldier's  speculative  faculty  can  be  stilled  by  drilling.  Salm, 
as  we  said,  received  only  half  payment  of  arrears ;  naturally 
not  without  grumbling.  Nevertheless  that  scene  of  the  drawn 
sword  may,  after  all,  have  raised  Bouille  in  the  mind  of  Salm  ; 
for  men  and  soldiers  love  intrepidity  and  swift  inflexible 
decision,  even  when  they  suffer  by  it.  As  indeed  is  not  this 
fundamentally  the  quality  of  qualities  for  a  man  ?  A  quality 
which  by  itself  is  next  to  nothing,  since  inferior  animals,  asses, 
dogs,  even  mules  have  it ;  yet,  in  due  combination,  it  is  the 
indispensable  basis  of  all. 

Of  Nanci  and  its  heats,  Bouille,  commander  of  the  whole, 
knows  nothing  special :  understands  generally  that  the  troops 


86  N  A  N  C I  [BK.  n.  CH.  iv, 

in  that  City  are  perhaps  the  worst.1  The  Officers  there  have 
it  all,  as  they  have  long  had  it,  to  themselves ;  and  unhappily 
seem  to  manage  it  ill.  <  Fifty  yellow  furloughs,'  given  out  in> 
one  batch,  do  surely  betoken  difficulties.  But  what  was 
Patriotism  to  think  of  certain  light-fencing  Fusileers  '  set  on,' 
or  supposed  to  be  set  on,  '  to  insult  the  Grenadier-club,' — 
considerate  speculative  Grenadiers  and  that  reading-room  of 
theirs  ?  With  shoutings,  with  hootings  ;  till  the  speculative 
Grenadier  drew  his  side-arms  too ;  and  there  ensued  battery 
and  duels  !  Nay  more,  are  not  swashbucklers  of  the  same 
stamp  *  sent  out '  visibly,  or  sent  out,  presumably,  now  in  the 
dress  of  Soldiers,  to  pick  quarrels  with  the  Citizens ;  now, 
disguised  as  Citizens,  to  pick  quarrels  with  the  Soldiers  ?  For 
a  certain  Roussiere,  expert  in  fence,  was  taken  in  the  very 
fact;  four  Officers  (presumably  of  tender  years)  hounding 
him  on,  who  thereupon  fled  precipitately !  Fence-master 
Roussiere,  haled  to  the  guardhouse,  had  sentence  of  three 
months'  imprisonment :  but  his  comrades  demanded  *  yellow 
furlough '  for  him  of  all  persons ;  nay  thereafter  they  pro- 
duced him  on  parade ;  capped  him  in  paper-helmet,  inscribed 
Iscariot;  marched  him  to  the  gate  of  the  City;  and  there 
sternly  commanded  him  to  vanish  for  evermore. 

On  all  which  suspicions,  accusations  and  noisy  procedure, 
and  on  enough  of  the  like  continually  accumulating,  the 
Officer  could  not  but  look  with  disdainful  indignation ; 
perhaps  disdainfully  express  the  same  in  words,  and  *  soon 
after  fly  over  to  the  Austrians.' 

So  that  when  it  here,  as  elsewhere,  comes  to  the  question 
of  Arrears,  the  humour  and  procedure  is  of  the  bitterest. 
Regiment  Mestre-de-Camp  getting,  amid  loud  clamour,  some 
three  gold  louis  a-man, — which  have,  as  usual,  to  be  borrowed 
from  the  Municipality ;  Swiss  Chateau- Vieux  applying  for  the 
like,  but  getting  instead  instantaneous  courroi-s,  or  cat-o'-nine- 
tails, with  subsequent  unsuflerable  hisses  from  the  women  and 
children :  Regiment  du  Roi,  sick  of  hope  deferred,  at  length 

1  Bouille,  i.  c.  9. 


AUG.  1790]      ARREARS    AT    NANCI  87 

seizing  its  military  chest,  and  marching  it  to  quarters,  but 
next  day  marching  it  back  again,  through  streets  all  struck 
silent :  —  unordered  paradings  and  clamours,  not  without 
strong  liquor ;  objurgation,  insubordination ;  your  military 
ranked  Arrangement  going  all  (as  the  Typographers  say  of 
set  types,  in  a  similar  case)  rapidly  to  pie  !  *  Such  is  Nanci 
in  these  early  days  of  August ;  the  sublime  Feast  of  Pikes  not 
yet  a  month  old. 

Constitutional  Patriotism,  at  Paris  and  elsewhere,  may  well 
quake  at  the  news.  War-Minister  Latour  du  Pin  runs 
breathless  to  the  National  Assembly,  with  a  written  message 
that  *  all  is  burning,  tout  br&le,  tout  pressed  The  National 
Assembly,  on  the  spur  of  the  instant,  renders  such  Decret, 
and  '  order  to  submit  and  repent,'  as  he  requires ;  if  it  will 
avail  anything.  On  the  other  hand,  Journalism,  through  all 
its  throats,  gives  hoarse  outcry,  condemnatory,  elegiac-applau- 
sive. The  Forty-eight  Sections  lift  up  voices;  sonorous 
Brewer,  or  call  him  now  Colonel  Santerre,  is  not  silent,  in  the 
Faubourg  Saint- Antoine.  For,  meanwhile,  the  Nanci  Soldiers 
have  sent  a  Deputation  of  Ten,  furnished  with  documents  and 
proofs ;  who  will  tell  another  story  than  the  *  all-is-burning  * 
one.  Which  deputed  Ten,  before  ever  they  reach  the 
Assembly  Hall,  assiduous  Latour  du  Pin  picks  up,  and,  on 
warrant  of  Mayor  Bailly,  claps  in  prison  !  Most  unconstitu- 
tionally ;  for  they  had  officers'  furloughs.  Whereupon  Saint- 
Antoine,  in  indignant  uncertainty  of  the  future,  closes  its 
shops.  Is  Bouille  a  traitor,  then,  sold  to  Austria  ?  In  that 
case,  these  poor  private  sentinels  have  revolted  mainly  out  of 
Patriotism  ? 

New  Deputation,  Deputation  of  National  Guardsmen  now, 
sets  forth  from  Nanci  to  enlighten  the  Assembly.  It  meets 
the  old  deputed  Ten  returning,  quite  unexpectedly  unhanged ; 
and  proceeds  thereupon  with  better  prospects ;  but  effects 
nothing.  Deputations,  Government  Messengers,  Orderlies  at 
hand-gallop,  Alarms,  thousand-voiced  Rumours,  go  vibrating 

1  Dtux  Amis,  v.  c.  8. 


88  N  A  N  C I  [BK.  n.  CH.  v. 

continually;  backwards  and  forwards, — scattering  distraction. 
Not  till  the  last  week  of  August  does  M.  de  Malseigne, 
selected  as  Inspector,  get  down  to  the  scene  of  mutiny ;  with 
Authority,  with  cash,  and  *  Decree  of  the  Sixth  of  August.1 
He  now  shall  see  these  Arrears  liquidated,  justice  done,  or  at 
least  tumult  quashed. 


CHAPTER   V 
INSPECTOR  MALSEIGNE 

OF  Inspector  Malseigne  we  discern,  by  direct  light,  that  he 
is  *  of  Herculean  stature ' ;  and  infer,  with  probability,  that  he 
is  of  truculent  mustachioed  aspect, — for  Royalist  Officers  now 
leave  the  upper  lip  unshaven ;  that  he  is  of  indomitable  bull- 
heart  ;  and  also,  unfortunately,  of  thick  bull-head. 

On  Tuesday  the  24th  of  August  1790,  he  opens  session  as 
Inspecting  Commissioner;  meets  those  'elected  corporals,  and 
soldiers  that  can  write.'  He  finds  the  accounts  of  Chateau- 
Vieux  to  be  complex ;  to  require  delay  and  reference :  he 
takes  to  haranguing,  to  reprimanding;  ends  amid  audible 
grumbling.  Next  morning,  he  resumes  session,  not  at  the 
Townhall  as  prudent  Municipals  counselled,  but  once  more 
at  the  barracks.  Unfortunately  Chateau- Vieux,  grumbling  all 
night,  will  now  hear  of  no  delay  or  reference;  from  reprimand- 
ing on  his  part,  it  goes  to  bullying, — answered  with  continual 
cries  of  '  Jugez  tout  de  suite,  Judge  it  at  once ' ;  whereupon 
M.  de  Malseigne  will  off  in  a  huff.  But  lo,  Chateau- Vieux, 
swarming  all  about  the  barrack-court,  has  sentries  at  every 
gate  ;  M.  de  Malseigne,  demanding  egress,  cannot  get  it,  not 
though  Commandant  Denoue  backs  him,  can  get  only  '  Jugez 
tout  de  suite."1  Here  is  a  nodus ! 

Bull-hearted  M.  de  Malseigne  draws  his  sword ;  and  will 
force  egress.  Confused  splutter.  M.  de  Malseigne's  sword 
breaks :  he  snatches  Commandant  Denoue's :  the  sentry  is 


AUG.  28-29,  1790]     INSPECTOR    MALSEIGNE        89 

wounded.  M.  de  Malseigne,  whom  one  is  loth  to  kill,  does 
force  egress, — followed  by  Chateau- Vieux  all  in  disarray ;  a 
spectacle  to  Nanci.  M.  de  Malseigne  walks  at  a  sharp  pace, 
yet  never  runs;  wheeling  from  time  to  time,  with  menaces 
and  movements  of  fence ;  and  so  reaches  Denoue's  houses 
unhurt ;  which  house  Chateau- Vieux,  in  an  agitated  manner, 
invests, — hindered  as  yet  from  entering,  by  a  crowd  of  officers 
formed  on  the  staircase.  M.  de  Malseigne  retreats  by  back 
ways  to  the  Townhall,  flustered  though  undaunted  ;  amid  an 
escort  of  National  Guards.  From  the  Townhall  he,  on  the 
morrow,  emits  fresh  orders,  fresh  plans  of  settlement  with 
Chateau- Vieux ;  to  none  of  which  will  Chateau- Vieux  listen  : 
whereupon  he  finally,  amid  noise  enough,  emits  order  that 
Chateau- Vieux  shall  march  on  the  morrow  morning,  and 
quarter  at  Sarre  Louis.  Chateau- Vieux  flatly  refuses  march- 
ing; M.  de  Malseigne  *  takes  act?  due  notarial  protest,  of 
such  refusal, — if  happily  that  may  avail  him. 

This  is  the  end  of  Thursday ;  and,  indeed,  of  M.  de 
Malseigne's  Inspectorship,  which  has  lasted  some  fifty  hours. 
To  such  length,  hi  fifty  hours,  has  he  unfortunately  brought 
it.  Mestre-de-Camp  and  Regiment  du  Roi  hang,  as  it  were, 
fluttering ;  Chateau- Vieux  is  clean  gone,  in  what  way  we  see. 
Over-night,  an  Aide-de-Camp  of  Lafayette's,  stationed  here  for 
such  emergency,  sends  swift  emissaries  far  and  wide  to  summon 
National  Guards.  The  slumber  of  the  country  is  broken  by 
clattering  hoofs,  by  loud  fraternal  knockings ;  everywhere  the 
Constitutional  Patriot  must  clutch  his  fighting-gear,  and  take 
the  road  for  Nanci. 

And  thus  the  Herculean  Inspector  has  sat  all  Thursday, 
among  terror-struck  Municipals,  a  centre  of  confused  noise : 
all  Thursday,  Friday,  and  till  Saturday  towards  noon. 
Chateau- Vieux,  in  spite  of  the  notarial  protest,  will  not 
march  a  step.  As  many  as  four  thousand  National  Guards 
are  dropping  or  pouring  in ;  uncertain  what  is  expected  of 
them,  still  more  uncertain  what  will  be  obtained  of  them. 
For  all  is  uncertainty,  commotion  and  suspicion :  there  goes 


90  N  A  N  C I  [BK.  n.  CH.  v, 

a  word  that  Bouille',  beginning  to  bestir  himself  in  the  rural 
Cantonments  eastward,  is  but  a  Royalist  traitor;  that 
Chateau- Vieux  and  Patriotism  are  sold  to  Austria,  of  which 
latter  M.  de  Malseigne  is  probably  some  agent.  Mestre-de- 
Camp  and  Roi  flutter  still  more  questionably  :  Chateau- Vieux, 
far  from  marching,  *  waves  red  flags  out  of  two  carriages,'  in 
a  passionate  manner,  along  the  streets ;  and  next  morning 
answers  its  Officers :  *  Pay  us,  then ;  and  we  will  march  with 
you  to  the  world's  end ! ' 

Under  which  circumstances,  towards  noon  on  Saturday,  M. 
de  Malseigne  thinks  it  were  good  perhaps  to  inspect  the 
ramparts, — on  horseback.  He  mounts,  accordingly,  with 
escort  of  three  troopers.  At  the  gate  of  the  City,  he  bids 
two  of  them  wait  for  his  return ;  and  with  the  third,  a 
trooper  to  be  depended  upon,  he — gallops  off  for  Lune'ville  ; 
where  lies  a  certain  Carbineer  Regiment  not  yet  in  a  mutinous 
state  !  The  two  left  troopers  soon  get  uneasy  ;  discover  how 
it  is,  and  give  the  alarm.  Mestre-de-Camp,  to  the  number 
of  a  hundred,  saddles  in  frantic  haste,  as  if  sold  to  Austria ; 
gallops  out  pellmell  in  chase  of  its  Inspector.  And  so  they 
spur,  and  the  Inspector  spurs ;  careering,  with  noise  and 
jingle,  up  the  valley  of  the  River  Meurthe,  towards  Luneville 
and  the  midday  sun  :  through  an  astonished  country ;  indeed 
almost  to  their  own  astonishment. 

What  a  hunt ;  Actaeon-like  ; — which  Actaeon  de  Malseigne 
happily  gains.  To  arms,  ye  Carbineers  of  Luneville :  to 
chastise  mutinous  men,  insulting  your  General  Officer,  insult- 
ing your  own  quarters  ; — above  all  things,  fire  soon,  lest  there 
be  parleying  and  ye  refuse  to  fire !  The  Carbineers  fire  soon, 
exploding  upon  the  first  stragglers  of  Mestre-de-Camp ;  who 
shriek  at  the  very  flash,  and  fall  back  hastily  on  Nanci,  in  a 
state  not  far  from  distraction.  Panic  and  fury :  sold  to 
Austria  without  an  if;  so  much  per  regiment,  the  very  sums 
can  be  specified ;  and  traitorous  Malseigne  is  fled  !  Help,  O 
Heaven ;  help,  thou  Earth, — ye  unwashed  Patriots ;  ye  toa 
are  sold  like  us  ! 


AUG.  29,  1790]     INSPECTOR    MALSEIGNE  91 

Effervescent  Regiment  du  Roi  primes  its  firelocks,  Mestre- 
de-Camp  saddles  wholly :  Commandant  Denoue  is  seized,  is 
flung  in  prison  with  a  '  canvas-shirt  (sarreau  de  toik) '  about 
him ;  Chateau- Vieux  bursts-up  the  magazines ;  distributes 
'  three  thousand  fusils'  to  a  Patriot  people :  Austria  shall 
have  a  hot  bargain.  Alas,  the  unhappy  hunting-dogs,  as  we 
said,  have  hunted  away  their  huntsman ;  and  do  now  run 
howling  and  baying,  on  what  trail  they  know  not ;  nigh  rabid ! 

And  so  there  is  tumultuous  march  of  men,  through  the 
night ;  with  halt  on  the  heights  of  Flinval,  whence  Luneville 
can  be  seen  all  illuminated.  Then  there  is  parley,  at  four  in 
the  morning ;  and  reparley ;  finally  there  is  agreement :  the 
Carbineers  gave  in ;  Malseigne  is  surrendered,  with  apologies 
on  all  sides.  After  weary  confused  hours,  he  is  even  got 
under  way  ;  the  LuneVillers  all  turning  out,  in  the  idle  Sunday, 
to  see  such  departure :  home-going  of  mutinous  Mestre-de- 
Camp  with  its  Inspector  captive.  Mestre-de-Camp  accordingly 
marches ;  the  Lunevillers  look.  See !  at  the  corner  of  the 
first  street,  our  Inspector  bounds  off  again,  bull-hearted  as  he 
is ;  amid  the  slash  of  sabres,  the  crackle  of  musketry ;  and 
escapes,  full  gallop,  with  only  a  ball  lodged  in  his  buff-jerkin. 
The  Herculean  man  !  And  yet  it  is  an  escape  to  no  purpose. 
For  the  Carbineers,  to  whom  after  the  hardest  Sunday's  ride 
on  record,  he  has  come  circling  back,  *  stand  deliberating  by 
their  nocturnal  watch-fires'1 ;  deliberating  of  Austria,  of  traitor^ 
and  the  rage  of  Mestre-de-Camp.  So  that,  on  the  whole,  the 
next  sight  we  have  is  that  of  M.  de  Malseigne,  on  the  Monday 
afternoon,  faring  bull-hearted  through  the  streets  of  Nanci ; 
in  open  carriage,  a  soldier  standing  over  him  with  drawn 
sword ;  amid  the  *  furies  of  the  women,'  hedges  of  National 
Guards,  and  confusion  of  Babel :  to  the  Prison  beside  Com- 
mandant Denoue !  That  finally  is  the  lodging  of  Inspector 
Malseigne.1 

Surely  it  is  time  Bouille  were  drawing  near.     The  Country 

1  Deux  Amis,  v.  206-251  ;  Newspapers  and  Documents  (in  Hut,  Par  I.  viL 
59-162). 


92  N  A  N  C I  [BK.  n.  CH.  VL 

all  round,  alarmed  with  watch-fires,  illuminated  towns,  and 
marching  and  rout,  has  been  sleepless  these  several  nights. 
Nanci,  with  its  uncertain  National  Guards,  with  its  distributed 
fusils,  mutinous  soldiers,  black  panic  and  redhot  ire,  is  not  a 
City  but  a  Bedlam. 


CHAPTER  VI 
BOUILLE  AT  NANCI 

HASTE  with  help,  thou  brave  Bouille :  if  swift  help  come 
not,  all  is  now  verily  turning';  and  may  burn, — to  what 
lengths  and  breadths !  Much,  in  these  hours,  depends  on 
Bouille ;  as  it  shall  now  fare  with  him,  the  whole  Future  may 
be  this  way  or  be  that.  If,  for  example,  he  were  to  loiter 
dubitating,  and  not  come ;  if  he  were  to  come,  and  fail :  the 
whole  Soldiery  of  France  to  blaze  into  mutiny,  National 
Guards  going  some  this  way,  some  that;  and  Royalism  to 
draw  its  rapier,  and  Sansculottism  to  snatch  its  pike ;  and  the 
Spirit  of  Jacobinism,  as  yet  young,  girt  with  sun-rays,  to  grow 
instantaneously  mature,  gut  with  hell-fire, — as  mortals,  in 
one  night  of  deadly  crisis,  have  had  their  heads  turned  grey  ! 

Brave  Bouille  is  advancing  fast,  with  the  old  inflexibility ; 
gathering  himself,  unhappily  *  in  small  affluences,'  from  East, 
from  West  and  North ;  and  now  on  Tuesday  morning,  the 
last  day  of  the  month,  he  stands  all  concentred,  unhappily  still 
in  small  force,  at  the  village  of  Frouarde,  within  some  few 
miles.  Son  of  Adam  with  a  more  dubious  task  before  him 
is  not  in  the  world  this  Tuesday  morning.  A  weltering 
inflammable  sea  of  doubt  and  peril,  and  Bouille  sure  of 
simply  one  thing,  his  own  determination.  Which  one  thing, 
indeed,  may  be  worth  many.  He  puts  a  most  firm  face  on 
the  matter  :  *  Submission,  or  unsparing  battle  and  destruction; 
twenty-four  hours  to  make  your  choice ' :  this  was  the  tenor  of 
liis  Proclamation;  thirty  copies  of  which  he  sent  yesterday 


AUG.  31,  I790]     BOUILLE    AT    NANCI  9$ 

to  Nanci : — all  which,  we  find,  were  intercepted  and  not 
posted.1 

Nevertheless,  at  half-past  eleven  this  morning,  seemingly 
by  way  of  answer,  there  does  wait  on  him  at  Frouarde  some 
Deputation  from  the  mutinous  Regiments,  from  the  Nanci 
Municipals,  to  see  what  can  be  done.  Bouille  receives  this 
Deputation  *  in  a  large  open  court  adjoining  his  lodging ' : 
pacified  Salm,  and  the  rest,  attend  also,  being  invited  to  do 
it, — all  happily  still  in  the  right  humour.  The  Mutineers 
pronounce  themselves  with  a  decisiveness,  which  to  Bouille 
seems  insolence ;  and  happily  to  Salm  also.  Salm,  forgetful 
of  the  Metz  staircase  and  sabre,  demands  that  the  scoundrels 
'  be  hanged '  there  and  then.  Bouille  represses  the  hanging ; 
but  answers  that  mutinous  Soldiers  have  one  course,  and  not 
more  than  one :  To  liberate,  with  heartfelt  contrition,  Messieurs 
Denoue  and  De  Malseigne ;  to  get  ready  forthwith  for  march- 
ing off,  whither  he  shall  order ;  and  *  submit  and  repent,'  as 
the  National  Assembly  has  decreed,  as  he  yesterday  did  in 
thirty  printed  Placards  proclaim.  These  are  his  terms,  unal- 
terable as  the  decrees  of  Destiny.  Which  terms  as  they,  the 
Mutineer  deputies,  seemingly  do  not  accept,  it  were  good  for 
them  to  vanish  from  this  spot,  and  even  to  do  it  promptly ; 
with  him  too,  in  few  instants,  the  word  will  be,  Forward ! 
The  Mutineer  deputies  vanish,  not  unpromptly;  the  Municipal 
ones,  anxious  beyond  right  for  their  own  individualities,  prefer 
abiding  with  Bouille. 

Brave  Bouille,  though  he  puts  a  most  firm  face  on  the 
matter,  knows  his  position  full  well :  how  at  Nanci,  what  with 
rebellious  soldiers,  with  uncertain  National  Guards,  and  so 
many  distributed  fusils,  there  rage  and  roar  some  ten  thousand 
fighting  men ;  while  with  himself  is  scarcely  the  third  part  of 
that  number,  hi  National  Guards  also  uncertain,  in  mere 
pacified  Regiments, — for  the  present  full  of  rage,  and  clamour 
to  march ;  but  whose  rage  and  clamour  may  next  moment 

1  Compare  Bouilll,  Afemoircs,  L   153-176 ;  Deux  Amis,  v.  251-371 ;  Hist. 
Furl,  ubi  supri. 


94  N  A  N  C I  [BK.  n.  CH.  VL 

take  such  a  fatal  new  figure.  On  the  top  of  one  uncertain 
billow,  therewith  to  calm  billows !  Bouille  must  '  abandon 
himself  to  Fortune';  who  is  said  sometimes  to  favour  the 
'brave.  At  half-past  twelve,  the  Mutineer  deputies  having 
vanished,  our  drums  beat ;  we  march  :  for  Nanci !  Let  Nanci 
bethink  itself,  then  ;  for  Bouille  has  thought  and  determined. 

And  yet  how  shall  Nanci  think  :  not  a  City  but  a  Bedlam  ! 
<rrim  Chateau-  Vieux  is  for  defence  to  the  death  ;  forces  the 
Municipality  to  order,  by  tap  of  drum,  all  citizens  acquainted 
with  artillery  to  turn  out,  and  assist  in  managing  the  cannon. 
On  the  other  hand,  effervescent  Regiment  du  Hoi  is  drawn  up 
in  its  barracks ;  quite  disconsolate,  hearing  the  humour  Salm 
is  hi ;  and  ejaculates  dolefully  from  its  thousand  throats  :  '  La 
Zoi,  la  loi,  Law,  law  ! '  Mestre-de-Camp  blusters,  with  profane 
swearing,  in  mixed  terror  and  furor;  National  Guards  look 
this  way  and  that,  not  knowing  what  to  do.  What  a  Bedlam- 
City  :  as  many  plans  as  heads ;  all  ordering,  none  obeying  : 
quiet  none, — except  the  Dead,  who  sleep  underground,  having 
done  their  fighting. 

And,  behold,  Bouille  proves  as  good  as  his  word  :  *  at  half- 
past  two '  scouts  report  that  he  is  within  half  a  league  of  the 
gates ;  rattling  along,  with  cannon  and  array ;  breathing 
nothing  but  destruction.  A  new  Deputation,  Municipals, 
Mutineers,  Officers,  goes  out  to  meet  him ;  with  passionate 
entreaty  for  yet  one  other  hour.  Bouille  grants  an  hour. 
Then,  at  the  end  thereof,  no  Denoue  or  Malseigne  appearing 
as  promised,  he  rolls  his  drums,  and  again  takes  the  road. 
Towards  four  o'clock,  the  terror-struck  Townsmen  may  see 
him  face  to  face.  His  cannons  rattle  there,  in  their  carnages; 
his  vanguard  is  within  thirty  paces  of  the  Gate  Stanislaus. 
Onward  like  a  Planet,  by  appointed  times,  by  law  of  Nature ! 
What  next  ?  Lo,  flag  of  truce  and  chamade ;  conjuration  to 
halt :  Malseigne  and  Denoue  are  on  the  street,  coming  hither ; 
the  soldiers  all  repentant,  ready  to  submit  and  march !  Ada- 
mantine Bouille's  look  alters  not ;  yet  the  word  Halt  is  given : 
gladder  moment  he  never  saw.  Joy  of  joys !  Malseigne  and 


AUG.  31,  1790]     BOUILLE    AT    NANCI  95 

Denoue  do  verily  issue ;  escorted  by  National  Guards ;  from 
streets  all  frantic,  with  sale  to  Austria  and  so  forth :  they 
salute  Bouille,  unscathed.  Bouilte  steps  aside  to  speak  with 
them,  and  with  other  heads  of  the  Town  there ;  having  already 
ordered  by  what  Gates  and  Routes  the  mutineer  Regiments 
shall  file  out. 

Such  colloquy  with  these  two  General  Officers  and  other 
principal  Townsmen  was  natural  enough ;  nevertheless  one 
wishes  Bouilte  had  postponed  it,  and  not  stepped  aside.  Such 
tumultuous  inflammable  masses,  tumbling  along,  making  way 
for  each  other ;  this  of  keen  nitrous  oxide,  that  of  sulphurous 
firedamp, — were  it  not  well  to  stand  between  them,  keeping 
them  well  separate,  till  the  space  be  cleared  ?  Numerous 
stragglers  of  Chateau- Vieux  and  the  rest  have  not  marched 
with  their  main  columns,  which  are  filing  out  by  the  appointed 
Gates,  taking  station  in  the  open  meadows.  National  Guards 
are  in  a  state  of  nearly  distracted  uncertainty ;  the  populace, 
armed  and  unarmed,  roll  openly  delirious, — betrayed,  sold  to 
the  Austrians,  sold  to  the  Aristocrats.  There  are  loaded 
cannon,  with  lit  matches,  among  them,  and  Bouille's  vanguard 
is  halted  within  thirty  paces  of  the  Gate.  Command  dwells 
not  in  that  mad  inflammable  mass ;  which  smoulders  and 
tumbles  there,  in  blind  smoky  rage ;  which  will  not  open  the 
Gate  when  summoned ;  says  it  will  open  the  cannon's  throat 
sooner ! — Cannonade  not,  O  Friends,  or  be  it  through  my 
body !  cries  heroic  young  Desilles,  young  Captain  of  Roi, 
clasping  the  murderous  engine  in  his  arms,  and  holding  it. 
Chateau- Vieux  Swiss,  by  main  force,  with  oaths  and  menaces, 
wrench  off  the  heroic  youth  ;  who  undaunted,  amid  still  louder 
oaths,  seats  himself  on  the  touch-hole.  Amid  still  louder 
oaths,  with  ever  louder  clangour, — and,  alas,  with  the  loud 
crackle  of  first  one,  and  then  of  three  other  muskets ;  which 
explode  into  his  body  ;  which  roll  it  in  the  dust, — and  do 
also,  in  the  loud  madness  of  such  moment,  bring  lit  cannon- 
match  to  ready  priming ;  and  so,  with  one  thunderous  belch 
of  grapeshot,  blast  some  fifty  of  Bouille^s  vanguard  into  air ! 


96  N  A  N  C I  [BK.  n.  CH.  vi. 

Fatal !  That  sputter  of  the  first  musket-shot  has  kindled 
such  a  cannon-shot,  such  a  death-blaze ;  and  all  is  now  red- 
hot  madness,  conflagration  as  of  Tophet.  With  demoniac 
rage,  the  Bouille'  vanguard  storms  through  that  Gate  Stan- 
islaus ;  with  fiery  sweep,  sweeps  Mutiny  clear  away,  to  death, 
or  into  shelters  and  cellars  ;  from  which  latter,  again,  Mutiny 
continues  firing.  The  ranked  Regiments  hear  it  in  their 
meadow ;  they  rush  back  again  through  the  nearest  Gate ; 
Bouille  gallops  in,  distracted,  inaudible ; — and  now  has  begun 
in  Nanci,  as  in  that  doomed  Hall  of  the  Nibelungen,  *a 
murder  grim  and  great.' 

Miserable :  such  scene  of  dismal  aimless  madness  as  the 
anger  of  Heaven  but  rarely  permits  among  men !  From 
cellar  or  from  garret,  from  open  street  in  front,  from  succes- 
sive corners  of  cross-streets  on  each  hand,  Chateau- Vieux  and 
Patriotism  keep  up  the  murderous  rolling-fire,  on  murderous 
not  Unpatriotic  fires.  Your  blue  National  Captain,  riddled 
with  balls,  one  hardly  knows  on  whose  side  fighting,  requests 
to  be  laid  on  the  colours  to  die  :  the  patriotic  Woman  (name 
not  given,  deed  surviving)  screams  to  Chateau- Vieux  that  it 
must  not  fire  the  other  cannon ;  and  even  flings  a  pail  of 
water  on  it,  since  screaming  avails  not.1  Thou  shalt  fight ; 
thou  shalt  not  fight ;  and  with  whom  shalt  thou  fight !  Could 
tumult  awaken  the  old  Dead,  Burgundian  Charles  the  Bold 
might  stir  from  under  that  Rotunda  of  his :  never  since  he, 
raging,  sank  in  the  ditches,  and  lost  Life  and  Diamond,  was 
such  a  noise  heard  here. 

Three  thousand,  as  some  count,  lie  mangled,  gory :  the 
half  of  Chateau- Vieux  has  been  shot,  without  need  of  Court- 
Martial.  Cavalry,  of  Mestre-de-Camp  or  their  foes,  can  do 
little.  Regiment  du  Roi  was  persuaded  to  its  barracks  ; 
stands  there  palpitating.  Bouille,  armed  with  the  terrors  of 
the  Law,  and  favoured  of  Fortune,  finally  triumphs.  In  two 
murderous  hours,  he  has  penetrated  to  the  grand  Squares, 
dauntless,  though  with  loss  of  forty  officers  and  five  hundred 
1  Deux  Amis,  v.  268. 


AUG.  31,  1790]     BOUILLE    AT    NANCI  97 

men :  the  shattered  remnants  of  Chateau- Vieux  are  seeking 
covert.  Regiment  du  Hoi,  not  effervescent  now,  alas  no,  but 
having  effervesced,  will  offer  to  ground  its  arms  ;  will  *  march 
in  a  quarter  of  an  hour/  Nay  these  poor  effervesced  require 
*  escort '  to  march  with,  and  get  it ;  though  they  are  thousands 
strong,  and  have  thirty  ball-cartridges  a  man  !  The  Suii  is 
not  yet  down,  when  Peace,  which  might  have  come  bloodless, 
has  come  bloody  :  the  mutinous  Regiments  are  on  march, 
doleful,  on  their  three  Routes ;  and  from  Nanci  rises  wail  of 
women  and  men,  the  voice  of  weeping  and  desolation  ;  the 
City  weeping  for  its  slain  who  awaken  not.  These  streets 
are  empty  but  for  victorious  patrols. 

Thus  has  Fortune,  favouring  the  brave,  dragged  Bouille,  as 
himself  says,  out  of  such  a  frightful  peril  '  by  the  hair  of  the 
head.1  An  intrepid  adamantine  man,  this  Bouille  : — had  he 
Jtood  hi  old  Broglie's  place  in  those  Bastille  days,  it  might 
have  been  all  different  !  He  has  extinguished  mutiny,  and 
immeasurable  civil  war.  Not  for  nothing,  as  we  see ;  yet  at 
a  rate  which  he  and  Constitutional  Patriotism  consider  cheap. 
Nay,  as  for  Bouille,  he,  urged  by  subsequent  contradiction 
which  arose,  declares  coldly,  it  was  rather  against  his  own 
private  mind,  and  more  by  public  military  rule  of  duty,  that 
he  did  extinguish  it,1 — immeasurable  civil  war  being  now  the 
only  chance.  Urged,  we  say,  by  subsequent  contradiction  ! 
Civil  war?  indeed,  is  Chaos ;  and  in  all  vital  Chaos  there  is 
new  Order  shaping  itself  free :  but  what  a  faith  this,  that  of 
all  new  Orders  out  of  Chaos  and  Possibility  of  Man  and  his 
Universe,  Louis  Sixteenth  and  Two-Chamber  Monarchy  were 
precisely  the  one  that  would  shape  itself !  It  is  like  under- 
taking to  throw  deuce-ace,  say  only  five  hundred  successive 
times,  and  any  other  throw  to  be  fatal — for  Bouille.  Rather 
thank  Fortune,  and  Heaven,  always,  thou  intrepid  Bouille; 
and  let  contradiction  go  its  way !  Civil  war,  conflagrating 
universally  over  France  at  this  moment,  might  have  led  to  one 

1  Bouill6,  L  175. 
VOL.  n.  G 


98  NANCI  [BK.II.  CH.  VL 

thing  or  to  another  thing  :  meanwhile,  to  quench  conflagra- 
tion, wheresoever  one  finds  it,  wheresoever  one  can ;  this,  in 
all  times,  is  the  rule  for  man  and  General  Officer. 

But  at  Paris,  so  agitated  and  divided,  fancy  how  it  went, 
when  the  continually  vibrating  Orderlies  vibrated  thither  at 
hand-gallop,  with  such  questionable  news !  High  is  the 
gratulation ;  and  also  deep  the  indignation.  An  august 
Assembly,  by  overwhelming  majorities,  passionately  thanks 
Bouille ;  a  King's  autograph,  the  voices  of  all  Loyal,  all  Con- 
stitutional men  run  to  the  same  tenor.  A  solemn  National 
funeral-service,  for  the  Law-defenders  slain  at  Nanci,  is  said 
and  sung  in  the  Champ-de-Mars ;  Bailly,  Lafayette  and 
National  Guards,  all  except  the  few  that  protested,  assist. 
With  pomp  and  circumstance,  with  episcopal  Calicoes  in 
tricolor  girdles,  Altar  of  Fatherland  smoking  with  cassolettes, 
or  incense-kettles ;  the  vast  Champ-de-Mars  wholly  hung 
round  with  black  mortcloth, — which  mortcloth  and  expendi- 
ture Marat  thinks  had  better  have  been  laid  out  in  bread,  in 
these  dear  days,  and  given  to  the  hungry  living  Patriot.1  On 
the  other  hand,  living  Patriotism,  and  Saint- Antoine,  which 
we  have  seen  noisily  closing  its  shops  and  suchlike,  assembles 
now  '  to  the  number  of  forty  thousand ' ;  and,  with  loud  cries, 
under  the  very  windows  of  the  thanking  National  Assembly, 
demands  revenge  for  murdered  Brothers,  judgment  on  Bouille, 
and  instant  dismissal  of  War-Minister  Latour  du  Pin. 

At  sound  and  sight  of  which  things,  if  not  War-Minister 
Latour,  yet  '  Adored  Minister '  Necker  sees  good,  on  the  3d 
of  September  1790,  to  withdraw  softly,  almost  privily, — with 
an  eye  to  the  *  recovery  of  his  health.'  Home  to  native 
Switzerland ;  not  as  he  last  came ;  lucky  to  reach  it  alive ! 
Fifteen  months  ago,  we  saw  him  coming,  with  escort  of  horse, 
with  sound  of  clarion  and  trumpet ;  and  now,  at  Arcis-sur- 
Aube,  while  he  departs,  unescorted,  soundless,  the  Populace 
and  Municipals  stop  him  as  a  fugitive,  are  not  unlike  mas- 
sacring him  as  a  traitor ;  the  National  Assembly,  consulted 
1  Ami  du  Peupk  (in  Hist.  Part,  ubi  supri). 


SEPT.  1790]          BOUILLE    AT    NANCI  99 

on  the  matter,  gives  him  free  egress  as  a  nullity.  Such  an 
unstable  *  drift-mould  of  Accident '  is  the  substance  of  this 
lower  world,  for  them  that  dwell  in  houses  of  clay;  so, 
especially  in  hot  regions  and  times,  do  the  proudest  palaces 
we  build  of  it  take  wings,  and  become  Sahara  sand-palaces, 
spinning  many-pillared  in  the  whirlwind,  and  bury  us  under 
their  sand ! — 

In  spite  of  the  forty  thousand,  the  National  Assembly 
persists  in  its  thanks ;  and  Royalist  Latour  du  Pin  continues 
Minister.  The  forty  thousand  assemble  next  day,  as  loud  as 
ever ;  roll  towards  Latour's  Hotel ;  find  cannon  on  the  porch- 
steps  with  flambeau  lit ;  and  have  to  retire  elsewhither,  and 
digest  their  spleen,  or  reabsorb  it  into  the  blood. 

Over  in  Lorraine  meanwhile,  they  of  the  distributed  fusils, 
ringleaders  of  Mestre-de-Camp,  of  Roi,  have  got  marked  out 
for  judgment; — yet  shall  never  get  judged.  Briefer  is  the 
doom  of  Chateau- Vieux.  Chateau- Vieux  is,  by  Swiss  law, 
given  up  for  instant  trial  in  Court-Martial  of  its  own  officers. 
Which  Court-Martial,  with  all  brevity  (in  not  many  hours), 
has  hanged  some  Twenty-three,  on  conspicuous  gibbets ; 
marched  some  Threescore  in  chains  to  the  Galleys ;  and  so,  to 
appearance,  finished  the  matter  off.  Hanged  men  do  cease 
for  ever  from  this  Earth ;  but  out  of  chains  and  the  Galleys 
there  may  be  resuscitation  in  triumph.  Resuscitation  for  the 
chained  Hero ;  and  even  for  the  chained  Scoundrel  or  Semi- 
scoundrel  !  Scottish  John  Knox,  such  World-Hero  as  we 
know,  sat  once  nevertheless  pulling  grim-taciturn  at  the  oar 
of  French  Galley,  *  in  the  Water  of  Lore  * ;  and  even  flung 
their  Virgin-Mary  over,  instead  of  kissing  her, — as  a  '  pented 
breddy  or  timber  Virgin,  who  could  naturally  swim  *  So,  ye 
of  Chateau- Vieux,  tug  patiently,  not  without  hope  ! 

But  indeed  at  Nanci  generally,  Aristocracy  rides  trium- 
phant, rough.  Bouille  is  gone  again,  the  second  day ;  an 
Aristocrat  Municipality,  with  free  course,  is  as  cruel  as  it  had 
before  been  cowardly.  The  Daughter  Society,  as  the  mother 

1  Knox's  History  of  the  KeformcUunt  b.  i. 


100  N  A  N  C I  [BK.  n.  CH.  vi. 

of  the  whole  mischief,  lies  ignominiously  suppressed;  the 
Prisons  can  hold  no  more ;  bereaved  down-beaten  Patriotism 
murmurs,  not  loud  but  deep.  Here  and  in  the  neighbouring 
Towns,  *  flattened  balls '  picked  from  the  streets  of  Nanci  are 
worn  at  buttonholes :  balls  flattened  ha  carrying  death  to 
Patriotism ;  men  wear  them  there,  in  perpetual  memento  of 
revenge.  Mutineer  deserters  roam  the  woods ;  have  to 
demand  charity  at  the  musket's  end.  All  is  dissolution, 
mutual  rancour,  gloom  and  despair : — till  National  Assembly 
Commissioners  arrive,  with  a  steady  gentle  flame  of  Constitu- 
tionalism in  their  hearts;  who  gently  lift  up  the  down- 
trodden, gently  pull  down  the  too  uplifted ;  reinstate  the 
Daughter  Society,  recall  the  mutineer  deserter;  gradually 
levelling,  strive  in  all  wise  ways  to  smoothe  and  soothe.  With 
such  gradual  mild  levelling  on  the  one  side ;  as  with  solemn 
funeral-service,  cassolettes,  Courts-Martial,  National  thanks, 
on  the  other, — all  that  Officiality  can  do  is  done.  The 
buttonhole  will  drop  its  flat  ball ;  the  black  ashes,  so  far  as 
may  be,  get  green  again. 

This  is  the  '  Affair  of  Nanci ' ;  by  some  called  the  f  Massacre 
of  Nanci ' ; — properly  speaking,  the  unsightly  wrong-side  of 
that  thrice-glorious  Feast  of  Pikes,  the  right-side  of  which 
formed  a  spectacle  for  the  very  gods.  Right-side  and  wrong 
lie  always  so  near  :  the  one  was  in  July,  in  August  the  other  ! 
Theatres,  the  theatres  over  in  London,  are  bright  with  their 
pasteboard  simulacrum  of  that  'Federation  of  the  French 
people,'  brought  out  as  Drama :  this  of  Nanci,  we  may  say, 
though  not  played  hi  any  pasteboard  Theatre,  did  for  many 
months  enact  itself,  and  even  walk  spectrally,  hi  all  French 
heads.  For  the  news  of  it  fly  pealing  through  all  France : 
awakening,  in  town  and  village,  in  clubroom,  messroom,  to 
the  utmost  borders,  some  mimic  reflex  or  imaginative  repeti- 
tion of  the  business ;  always  with  the  angry  questionable 
assertion  :  It  was  right ;  It  was  wrong.  Whereby  come  con- 
troversies, duels ;  embitterment,  vain  jargon ;  the  hastening 


SEPT.  1790]  BOUILLE    AT    NANCI  101 

forward,  the  augmenting  and  intensifying  of  whatever  new 
explosions  lie  in  store  for  us. 

Meanwhile,  at  this  cost  or  at  that,  the  mutiny,  as  we  say, 
is  stilled.  The  French  Army  has  neither  burst-up  in  univer- 
sal simultaneous  delirium ;  nor  been  at  once  disbanded,  put 
an  end  to,  and  made  new  again.  It  must  die  in  the  chronic 
manner,  through  years,  by  inches ;  with  partial  revolts,  as  of 
Brest  Sailors  or  the  like,  which  dare  not  spread ;  with  men 
unhappy,  insubordinate ;  officers  unhappier,  in  Royalist  mus- 
tachioes,  taking  horse,  singly  or  in  bodies,  across  the  Rhine : l 
sick  dissatisfaction,  sick  disgust  on  both  sides  ;  the  Army  mori- 
bund, fit  for  no  duty : — till  it  do,  in  that  unexpected  manner, 
phoenix-like,  with  long  throes,  get  both  dead  and  new-born ; 
then  start  forth  strong,  nay  stronger  and  even  strongest. 

Thus  much  was  the  brave  Bouille'  hitherto  fated  to  do. 
Wherewith  let  him  again  fade  into  dimness ;  and,  at  Metz  or 
the  rural  Cantonments,  assiduously  drilling,  mysteriously  diplo- 
matising, in  scheme  within  scheme,  hover  as  formerly  a  faint 
shadow,  the  hope  of  Royalty. 

1  See  Dampmartin,  i.  249,  etc.  etc. 


BOOK    THIRD 

THE     TUILERIES 


CHAPTER    I 

EPIMENIDES 

How  true,  that  there  is  nothing  dead  in  this  Universe ;  that 
what  we  call  dead  is  only  changed,  its  forces  working  in 
inverse  order !  *  The  leaf  that  lies  rotting  in  moist  winds,' 
says  one,  *  has  still  force  ;  else  how  could  it  rot  ? '  Our  whole 
Universe  is  but  an  infinite  Complex  of  Forces ;  thousandfold, 
from  Gravitation  up  to  Thought  and  Will ;  man's  Freedom 
environed  with  Necessity  of  Nature :  in  all  which  nothing  at 
jiny  moment  slumbers,  but  all  is  for  ever  awake  and  busy. 
The  thing  that  lies  isolated  inactive  thou  shalt  nowhere  dis- 
cover; seek  everywhere,  from  the  granite  mountain,  slow- 
mouldering  since  Creation,  to  the  passing  cloud-vapour,  to  the 
living  man ;  to  the  action,  to  the  spoken  word  of  man.  The 
word  that  is  spoken,  as  we  know,  flies  irrevocable ;  not  less, 
but  more,  the  action  that  is  done.  'The  gods  themselves,' 
sings  Pindar,  'cannot  annihilate  the  action  that  is  done.' 
No :  this,  once  done,  is  done  always ;  cast  forth  into  endless 
Time;  and,  long  conspicuous  or  soon  hidden,  must  verily 
work  and  grow  for  ever  there,  an  indestructible  new  element  in 
the  Infinite  of  Things.  Or,  indeed,  what  is  this  Infinite  of 
Things  itself,  which  men  name  Universe,  but  an  Action,  a 
sum-total  of  Actions  and  Activities  ?  The  living  ready-made 
sum-total  of  these  three, — which  Calculation  cannot  add,  can- 
not bring  on  its  tablets ;  yet  the  sum,  we  say,  is  written 
101 


1790]  EPIMENIDES  10S 

visible :  All  that  has  been  done,  All  that  is  doing,  All  that 
will  be  done  !  Understand  it  well,  the  Thing  thou  beholdest, 
that  Thing  is  an  Action,  the  product  and  expression  of  exerted 
Force :  the  All  of  Things  is  an  infinite  conjugation  of  the 
verb  To  do.  Shoreless  Fountain-Ocean  of  Force,  of  power  to 
do ;  wherein  Force  rolls  and  circles,  billowing,  many-streamed, 
harmonious ;  wide  as  Immensity,  deep  as  Eternity ;  beautiful 
and  terrible,  not  to  be  comprehended  :  this  is  what  man  names 
Existence  and  Universe ;  this  thousand-tinted  Flame-image,  at 
once  veil  and  revelation,  reflex  such  as  he,  in  his  poor  brain 
and  heart,  can  paint,  of  One  Unnameable,  dwelling  in  inacces- 
sible light !  From  beyond  the  Star-galaxies,  from  before  the 
Beginning  of  Days,  it  billows  and  rolls, — round  thee,  nay 
thyself  art  of  it,  in  this  point  of  Space  where  thou  now 
standest,  in  this  moment  which  thy  clock  measures. 

Or,  apart  from  all  Transcendentalism,  is  it  not  a  plain 
truth  of  sense,  which  the  duller  mind  can  even  consider  as  a 
truism,  that  human  things  wholly  are  in  continual  movement, 
and  action  and  reaction ;  working  continually  forward,  phasis 
after  phasis,  by  unalterable  laws,  towards  prescribed  issues? 
How  often  must  we  say,  and  yet  not  rightly  lay  to  heart : 
The  seed  that  is  sown,  it  will  spring !  Given  the  summer's 
blossoming,  then  there  is  also  given  the  autumnal  withering : 
so  is  it  ordered  not  with  seedfields  only,  but  with  transactions, 
arrangements,  philosophies,  societies,  French  Revolutions,  what- 
soever man  works  with  in  this  lower  world.  The  Beginning 
holds  in  it  the  End,  and  all  that  leads  thereto ;  as  the  acorn 
does  the  oak  and  its  fortunes.  Solemn  enough,  did  we  think 
of  it, — which  unhappily,  and  also  happily,  we  do  not  very 
much  !  Thou  there  canst  begin  ;  the  Beginning  is  for  thee, 
and  there :  but  where,  and  of  what  sort,  and  for  whom  will 
the  End  be  ?  All  grows,  and  seeks  and  endures  its  destinies  : 
consider  likewise  how  much  grows,  as  the  trees  do,  whether  we 
think  of  it  or  not.  So  that  when  your  Epimenides,  your 
somnolent  Peter  Klaus,  since  named  Rip  van  Winkle,  awakens 
again,  he  finds  it  a  changed  world.  In  that  seven-years  sleep 


104  THE    TUILERIES         [BK.  m.  CH.  I. 

of  his,  so  much  has  changed  '  All  that  is  without  us  will 
change  while  we  think  not  of  it ;  much  even  that  is  within  us. 
The  truth  that  was  yesterday  a  restless  Problem,  has  today 
grown  a  Belief  burning  to  be  uttered  :  on  the  morrow,  contra- 
diction has  exasperated  it  into  mad  Fanaticism ;  obstruction 
has  dulled  it  into  sick  Inertness ;  it  is  sinking  towards  silence, 
of  satisfaction  or  of  resignation.  Today  is  not  Yesterday,  for 
man  or  for  thing.  Yesterday  there  was  the  oath  of  Love ; 
today  has  come  the  curse  of  Hate.  Not  willingly  :  ah,  no ; 
but  it  could  not  help  coming.  The  golden  radiance  of  youth, 
would  it  willingly  have  tarnished  itself  into  the  dimness  of  old 
age  ? — Fearful :  how  we  stand  enveloped,  deep-sunk,  in  that 
Mystery  of  TIME  ;  and  are  Sons  of  Time  ;  fashioned  and  woven 
out  of  Time ;  and  on  us,  and  on  all  that  we  have,  or  see, 
or  do,  is  written :  Rest  not,  Continue  not,  Forward  to  thy 
doom ! 

But  in  seasons  of  Revolution,  which  indeed  distinguish 
themselves  from  common  seasons  by  their  velocity  mainly, 
your  miraculous  Seven-sleeper  might,  with  miracle  enough, 
awake  sooner :  not  by  the  century,  or  seven  years,  need  he 
sleep ;  often  not  by  the  seven  months.  Fancy,  for  example, 
some  new  Peter  Klaus,  sated  with  the  jubilee  of  that  Federa- 
tion day,  had  lain  down,  say  directly  after  the  Blessing  of 
Talleyrand ;  and,  reckoning  it  all  safe  now,  had  fallen  com- 
posedly asleep  under  the  timber-work  of  the  Fatherland's 
Altar ;  to  sleep  there,  not  twenty-one  years,  but  as  it  were 
year  and  day.  The  cannonading  of  Nanci,  so  far  off,  does 
not  disturb  him  ;  nor  does  the  black  mortcloth,  close  at  hand, 
nor  the  requiems  chanted,  and  minute-guns,  incense-pans  and 
concourse  right  over  his  head  :  none  of  these ;  but  Peter  sleeps 
through  them  all.  Through  one  circling  year,  as  we  say; 
from  July  the  14th  of  1790,  till  July  the  17th  of  1791  : 
but  on  that  latter  day,  no  Klaus,  nor  most  leaden  Epimenides, 
only  the  Dead  could  continue  sleeping  :  and  so  our  miraculous 
Peter  Klaus  awakens.  With  what  eyes,  O  Peter !  Earth 


1790]  EPIMENIDES  105 

And  sky  have  still  their  joyous  July  look,  and  the  Champ-de- 
Mars  is  multitudinous  with  men :  but  the  jubilee-huzzahing 
has  become  Bedlam-shrieking,  of  terror  and  revenge ;  not 
blessing  of  Talleyrand,  or  any  blessing,  but  cursing,  impreca- 
tion and  shrill  wail ;  our  cannon-salvoes  are  turned  to  sharp 
shot ;  for  swinging  of  incense-pans  and  Eighty-three  Depart- 
mental Banners,  we  have  waving  of  the  one  sanguineous 
Drapeau  Rouge. — Thou  foolish  Klaus  !  The  one  lay  in  the 
other,  the  one  was  the  other  minus  Time ;  even  as  Hannibal's 
rock-rending  vinegar  lay  in  the  sweet  new  wine.  That  sweet 
Federation  was  of  last  year ;  this  sour  Divulsion  is  the  self- 
same substance,  only  older  by  the  appointed  days. 

No  miraculous  Klaus  or  Epimenides  sleeps  in  these  times ; 
and  yet,  may  not  many  a  man,  if  of  due  opacity  and  levity, 
act  the  same  miracle  in  a  natural  way ;  we  mean,  with  his 
eyes  open  ?  Eyes  has  he,  but  he  sees  not,  except  what  is 
under  his  nose.  With  a  sparkling  briskness  of  glance,  as  if 
he  not  only  saw  but  saw  through,  such  a  one  goes  whisking, 
assiduous,  in  his  circle  of  officialities ;  not  dreaming  but  that 
it  is  the  whole  world  :  as  indeed,  where  your  vision  terminates, 
does  not  inanity  begin  there,  and  the  world's  end  clearly 
disclose  itself — to  you  ?  Whereby  our  brisk -spark  ling  assidu- 
ous official  person  (call  him,  for  instance,  Lafayette),  suddenly 
startled,  after  year  and  day,  by  huge  grapeshot  tumult,  stares 
not  less  astonished  at  it  than  Peter  Klaus  would  have  done. 
Such  natural-miracle  can  Lafayette  perform ;  and  indeed  not 
he  only  but  most  other  officials,  non-officials,  and  generally  the 
whole  French  People  can  perform  it ;  and  do  bounce  up,  ever 
and  anon,  like  amazed  Seven-sleepers  awakening;  awakening 
amazed  at  the  noise  they  themselves  make.  So  strangely  is 
Freedom,  as  we  say,  environed  in  Necessity ;  such  a  singular 
Somnambulism,  of  Conscious  and  Unconscious,  of  Voluntary 
and  Involuntary,  is  this  life  of  man.  If  anywhere  in  the  world 
there  was  astonishment  that  the  Federation  Oath  went  into 
grapeshot,  surely  of  all  persons  the  French,  first  swearers  and 
then  shooters,  felt  astonished  the  most. 


106  THE    TUILERIES        [BK.  in.  CH.  I. 

Alas,  offences  must  come.  The  sublime  Feast  of  Pikes 
with  its  effulgence  of  brotherly  love,  unknown  since  the  Age 
of  Gold,  has  changed  nothing.  That  prurient  heat  in  Twenty- 
five  millions  of  hearts  is  not  cooled  thereby  ;  but  is  still  hot, 
nay  hotter.  Lift  off  the  pressure  of  command  from  so  many 
millions ;  all  pressure  or  binding  rule,  except  such  melo- 
dramatic Federation  Oath  as  they  have  bound  themselves  with  \ 
For  Thou  shalt  was  from  of  old  the  condition  of  man's  being, 
and  his  weal  and  blessedness  was  in  obeying  that.  Wo  for  him 
when,  were  it  on  the  hest  of  the  clearest  necessity,  rebellion, 
disloyal  isolation,  and  mere  /  will,  becomes  his  rule  !  But  the 
Gospel  of  Jean-Jacques  has  come,  and  the  first  Sacrament  of 
it  has  been  celebrated :  all  things,  as  we  say,  are  got  into  hot 
and  hotter  prurience ;  and  must  go  on  pruriently  fermenting, 
in  continual  change  noted  or  unnoted. 

*  Worn  out  with  disgusts,'  Captain  after  Captain,  in 
Royalist  mustachioes,  mounts  his  war-horse,  or  his  Rozinante 
war-garron,  and  rides  minatory  across  the  Rhine ;  till  all  have 
ridden.  Neither  does  civic  Emigration  cease  ;  Seigneur  after 
Seigneur  must,  in  like  manner,  ride  or  roll  ;  impelled  to  it, 
and  even  compelled.  For  the  very  Peasants  despise  him,  in 
that  he  dare  not  join  his  order  and  fight.  *  Can  he  bear  to- 
have  a  Distaff,  a  Quenouille  sent  to  him  :  say  in  copper-plate 
shadow,  by  post ;  or  fixed  up  in  wooden  reality  over  his  gate- 
lintel  :  as  if  he  were  no  Hercules,  but  an  Omphale  ?  Such 
scutcheon  they  forward  to  him  diligently  from  beyond  the 
Rhine ;  till  he  too  bestir  himself  and  march,  and  in  sour 
humour  another  Lord  of  Land  is  gone,  not  taking  the  Land 
with  him.  Nay,  what  of  Captains  and  emigrating  Seigneurs  ? 
There  is  not  an  angry  word  on  any  of  those  Twenty-five 
million  French  tongues,  and  indeed  not  an  angry  thought  in 
their  hearts,  but  is  some  fraction  of  the  great  Battle.  Add 
many  successions  of  angry  words  together,  you  have  the  manual 
brawl ;  add  brawls  together,  with  the  festering  sorrows  they 
leave,  and  they  rise  to  riots  and  revolts.  One  reverend  thing, 
1  Dampmartin,  passim. 


1790-91]  THE    WAKEFUL  107 

after  another  ceases  to  meet  reverence  :  in  visible  material 
combustion,  chateau  after  chateau  mounts  up  ;  in  spiritual 
invisible  combustion,  one  authority  after  another.  With  noise 
and  glare,  or  noiselessly  and  unnoted,  a  whole  Old  System  of 
things  is  vanishing  piecemeal :  the  morrow  thou  shalt  look, 
and  it  is  not. 


CHAPTER    II 
THE   WAKEFUL 

SLEEP  who  will,  cradled  in  hope  and  short  vision,  like 
Lafayette,  who,  *  always  in  the  danger  done  sees  the  last 
danger  that  will  threaten  him,'* — Time  is  not  sleeping,  nor 
Time's  seed-field. 

That  sacred  HeraldVCollege  of  a  new  Dynasty ;  we  mean 
the  Sixty  and  odd  Billstickers  with  their  leaden  badges,  are 
not  sleeping.  Daily  they,  with  pastepot  and  cross-staff, 
new-clothe  the  walls  of  Paris  in  colours  of  the  rainbow  : 
authoritative-heraldic,  as  we  say,  or  indeed  almost  magical- 
thaumaturgic;  for  no  Placard- Journal  that  they  paste  but  will 
convince  some  soul  or  souls  of  men.  The  Hawkers  bawl ; 
and  the  Balladsingers :  great  Journalism  blows  and  blusters, 
through  all  its  throats,  forth  from  Paris  towards  all  corners  of 
France,  like  an  ^Eolus'  Cave;  keeping  alive  all  manner  of  fires. 

Throats  or  Journals  there  are,  as  men  count,1  to  the 
number  of  some  Hundred  and  thirty- three.  Of  various  calibre; 
from  your  Cheniers,  Gorsases,  Camilles,  down  to  your  Marat, 
down  now  to  your  incipient  Hebert  of  the  Pere  Dttchesne ; 
these  blow,  with  fierce  weight  of  argument  or  quick  light 
banter,  for  the  Rights  of  Man :  Durosoys,  Royous,  Peltiers, 
Sulleaus,  equally  with  mixed  tactics  (inclusive,  singular  to  say, 
of  much  profane  Parody),8  are  blowing  for  Altar  and  Throne. 
As  for  Marat  the  PeopleVFriend,  his  voice  is  as  that  of  the 
bullfrog,  or  bittern  by  the  solitary  pools ;  he,  unseen  of  men, 
1  Merrier,  UL  163.  •  See  Hist.  ParL  *ii.  51. 


108  THE    TUILERIES       [BK.  m.  CH.  IL 

croaks  harsh  thunder,  and  that  alone  continually, — of  indigna- 
tion, suspicion,  incurable  sorrow.  The  People  are  sinking 
toward  ruin,  near  starvation  itself :  *  My  dear  friends/  cries  he, 
'  your  indigence  is  not  the  fruit  of  vices  nor  of  idleness ;  you 
have  a  right  to  life,  as  good  as  Louis  xvi.,  or  the  happiest 
of  the  century.  What  man  can  say  he  has  a  right  to  dine, 
when  you  have  no  bread  ? ' l  The  People  sinking  on  the  one 
hand:  on  the  other  hand,  nothing  but  wretched  Sieur  Metiers, 
treasonous  Riquetti  Mirabeaus  :  traitors,  or  else  shadows  and 
simulacra  of  Quacks  to  be  seen  in  high  places,  look  where  you 
will !  Men  that  go  mincing,  grimacing,  with  plausible  speech 
and  brushed  raiment ;  hollow  within :  Quacks  political ; 
Quacks  scientific,  academical :  all  with  a  fellow-feeling  for 
each  other,  and  kind  of  Quack  public-spirit !  Not  great 
Lavoisier  himself,  or  any  of  the  Forty,  can  escape  this  rough 
tongue ;  which  wants  not  fanatic  sincerity,  nor,  strangest  of 
all,  a  certain  rough  caustic  sense.  And  then  the  *  three 
thousand  gaming-houses,'  that  are  in  Paris ;  cesspools  for  the 
scoundrelism  of  the  world  ;  sinks  of  iniquity  and  debauchery, 
— whereas  without  good  morals  Liberty  is  impossible  !  There, 
in  these  Dens  of  Satan,  which  one  knows,  and  perseveringly 
denounces,  do  Sieur  Motier's  mouchards  consort  and  colleague; 
battening  vampyre-like  on  a  People  next-door  to  starvation. 
'  O  Peuple ! '  cries  he  ofttimes,  with  heart-rending  accent. 
Treason,  delusion,  vampyrism,  scoundrelism,  from  Dan  to 
Beersheba !  The  soul  of  Marat  is  sick  with  the  sight :  but 
what  remedy?  To  erect  *  Eight  Hundred  gibbets,"1  in  con- 
venient rows,  and  proceed  to  hoisting ;  *  Riquetti  on  the  first 
of  them  ! '  Such  is  the  brief  recipe  of  Marat,  Friend  of  the 
People. 

So  blow  and  bluster  the  Hundred  and  thirty-three :  nor, 
as  would  seem,  are  these  sufficient ;  for  there  are  benighted 
nooks  in  France,  to  which  Newspapers  do  not  reach;  and 
everywhere  is  '  such  an  appetite  for  news  as  was  never  seen  in 

1  Ami  du  Peuple,  No.  306.      See  other  Excerpts  in  Hist.  far/,  viii.  139-149, 
428-433  ;  ix.  85-93,  etc. 


I79i]  THE    WAKEFUL  109 

any  country/     Let  an  expeditious  Dampmartin,  on  furlough, 
set  out  to  return  home  from  Paris,1  he  cannot  get  along  for 

*  peasants  stopping  him  on  the  highway ;   overwhelming  him 
with  questions ' :   the  Maitre  de  Poste  will  not  send  out  the 
horses  till  you  have  well-nigh  quarrelled  with  him,  but  asks 
always,  What  news?   At  Autun,  in  spite  of  the  dark  night  and 

*  rigorous   frost,'  for  it  is   now  January  1791,  nothing  will 
serve  but  you  must  gather  your  wayworn  limbs  and  thoughts, 
and  '  speak  to  the  multitudes  from  a  window  opening  into 
the  market-place.'     It  is  the  shortest  method :      This,  good 
Christian  people,  is  verily  what  an  august  Assembly  seemed  to 
me  to  be  doing ;  this  and  no  other  is  the  news : 

Now  my  weary  lips  I  close  ; 
Leave  me,  leave  me  to  repose  ! 

The  good  Dampmartin  ! — But,  on  the  whole,  are  not  Nations 
astonishingly  true  to  their  National  character ;  which  indeed 
runs  in  the  blood  ?  Nineteen  hundred  years  ago,  Julius 
Caesar,  with  his  quick  sure  eye,  took  note  how  the  Gauls 
waylaid  men.  *  It  is  a  habit  of  theirs,'  says  he,  *to  stop 
travellers,  were  it  even  by  constraint,  and  inquire  whatsoever 
each  of  them  may  have  heard  or  known  about  any  sort  of 
matter :  in  their  towns,  the  common  people  beset  the  passing 
trader ;  demanding  to  hear  from  what  regions  he  came,  what 
things  he  got  acquainted  with  there.  Excited  by  which 
rumours  and  hearsays,  they  will  decide  about  the  weightiest 
matters ;  and  necessarily  repent  next  moment  that  they  did 
it,  on  such  guidance  of  uncertain  reports,  and  many  a  traveller 
answering  with  mere  fictions  to  please  them,  and  get  off.'* 
Nineteen  hundred  years ;  and  good  Dampmartin,  wayworn,  in 
winter  frost,  probably  with  scant  light  of  stars  and  fish-oil, 
still  perorates  from  the  Inn-window !  This  People  is  no 
longer  called  Gaulish;  and  it  has  wholly  become  braccatus, 
has  got  breeches,  and  suffered  change  enough :  certain  fierce 
German  Franken  came  storming  over;  and,  so  to  speak, 
1  Dampmartin,  L  184.  *  D€  Btllo  Gallitot  lib.  IT.  5. 


110  THE    TUILERIES       [BK.  HI.  CH.  IL 

vaulted  on  the  back  of  it ;  and  always  after,  in  their  grim 
tenacious  way,  have  ridden  it  bridled ;  for  German  is,  by 
his  very  name,  Gtterre-m&n,  or  man  that  wars  and  gars.  And 
so  the  People,  as  we  say,  is  now  called  French  or  Frankish : 
nevertheless,  does  not  the  old  Gaulish  and  Gaelic  Celthood, 
with  its  vehemence,  effervescent  promptitude,  and  what  good 
and  ill  it  had,  still  vindicate  itself  little  adulterated  ?  — 

For  the  rest,  that  in  such  prurient  confusion,  Clubbism 
thrives  and  spreads,  need  not  be  said.  Already  the  Mother 
of  Patriotism,  sitting  in  the  Jacobins,  shines  supreme  over  all ; 
and  has  paled  the  poor  lunar  light  of  that  Monarchic  Club 
near  to  final  extinction.  She,  we  say,  shines  supreme,  girt 
with  sunlight,  not  yet  with  infernal  lightning;  reverenced, 
not  without  fear,  by  Municipal  Authorities ;  counting  her 
Barnaves,  Lameths,  Petions,  of  a  National  Assembly;  most 
gladly  of  all,  her  Robespierre.  Cordeliers,  again,  your  Hebert, 
Vincent,  Bibliopolist  Momoro,  groan  audibly  that  a  tyrannous 
Mayor  and  Sieur  Metier  harrow  them  with  the  sharp  tribula 
of  Law,  intent  apparently  to  suppress  them  by  tribulation. 
How  the  Jacobin  Mother  Society,  as  hinted  formerly,  sheds 
forth  Cordeliers  on  this  hand,  and  then  Feuillans  on  that; 
the  Cordeliers  *an  elixir  or  double  distillation  of  Jacobin 
Patriotism ' ;  the  other  a  wide-spread  weak  dilution  thereof : 
how  she  will  reabsorb  the  former  into  her  mother  bosom,  and 
stormfully  dissipate  the  latter  into  Nonentity :  how  she  breeds 
and  brings  forth  Three  Hundred  Daughter  Societies;  her 
rearing  of  them,  her  correspondence,  her  endeavourings  and 
continual  travail :  how,  under  an  old  figure,  Jacobinism 
shoots  forth  organic  filaments  to  the  utmost  corners  of 
confused  dissolved  France  ;  organising  it  anew  : — this  properly 
is  the  grand  fact  of  the  Time. 

To  passionate  Constitutionalism,  still  more  to  Royalism, 
which  see  all  their  own  Clubs  fail  and  die,  Clubbism  will 
naturally  grow  to  seem  the  root  of  all  evil.  Nevertheless 
Clubbism  is  not  death,  but  rather  new  organisation,  and  life 
out  of  death  :  destructive,  indeed,  of  the  remnants  of  the  Old ; 


1791]  THE    WAKEFUL  111 

but  to  the  New  important,  indispensable.  That  man  can 
cooperate  and  hold  communion  with  man,  herein  lies  his 
miraculous  strength.  In  hut  or  hamlet,  Patriotism  mourns 
not  now  like  voice  in  the  desert :  it  can  walk  to  the  nearest 
Town ;  and  there,  hi  the  Daughter  Society,  make  its 
ejaculation  into  an  articulate  oration,  into  an  action,  guided 
forward  by  the  Mother  of  Patriotism  herself.  All  Clubs  of 
Constitutionalists,  and  suchlike,  fail,  one  after  another,  as 
shallow  fountains :  Jacobinism  alone  has  gone  down  to  the 
deep  subterranean  lake  of  waters ;  and  may,  \m\essjilkd  tn, 
flow  there,  copious,  continual,  like  an  Artesian  well.  Till  the 
Great  Deep  have  drained  itself  up ;  and  all  be  flooded  and 
submerged,  and  Noah's  Deluge  out-deluged  ! 

On  the  other  hand,  Claude  Fauchet,  preparing  mankind  for 
a  Golden  Age  now  apparently  just  at  hand,  has  opened  his 
Cercle  Social,  with  clerks,  corresponding  boards,  and  so  forth ; 
in  the  precincts  of  the  Palais  Royal.  It  is  Te-Deum  Fauchet ; 
the  same  who  preached  on  Franklin's  Death,  in  that  huge 
Medicean  rotunda  of  the  HaUe-aux-bkds.  He  here,  this 
winter,  by  Printing-press  and  melodious  Colloquy,  spreads 
bruit  of  himself  to  the  utmost  City-barriers.  '  Ten  thousand 
j>ersons  of  respectability1  attend  there;  and  listen  to  this 
4  Procureur-General  de  la  Veritt,  Attorney-General  of  Truth/ 
so  has  he  dubbed  himself;  to  his  sage  Condorcet,  or  other 
eloquent  coadjutor.  Eloquent  Attorney-General !  He  blows  out 
from  him,  better  or  worse,  what  crude  or  ripe  thing  he  holds  : 
not  without  result  to  himself;  for  it  leads  to  a  Bishopric, 
though  only  a  Constitutional  one.  Fauchet  approves  himself  a 
glib-tongued,  strong-lunged,  whole-hearted  human  individual : 
much  flowing  matter  there  is,  and  really  of  the  better  sort, 
about  Right,  Nature,  Benevolence,  Progress ;  which  flowing 
matter,  whether  *  it  is  pan-theistic,'  or  is  pot-theistic,  only  the 
greener  mind,  in  these  days,  need  examine.  Busy  Brissot  was 
long  ago  of  purpose  to  establish  precisely  some  such  regenerative 
Social  Circle  :  nay  he  had  tried  it  in  *  Newman-street  Oxford- 
street,'  of  the  Fog  Babylon ;  and  failed, — as  some  say,  surrep- 


112  THE    TUILERIES       [BK.  m.  CH.  IL. 

titiously  pocketing  the  cash.  Fauchet,  not  Brissot,  was  fated 
to  be  the  happy  man  ;  whereat,  however,  generous  Brissot  will 
with  sincere  heart  sing  a  timber- toned  Nunc  Dornine.1  But  'ten 
thousand  persons  of  respectability':  what  a  bulk  have  many 
things  in  proportion  to  their  magnitude  !  This  Cercle  Social, 
for  which  Brissot  chants  in  sincere  timber-tones  such  Nunc 
Domine,  what  is  it  ?  Unfortunately  wind  and  shadow.  The 
main  reality  one  finds  in  it  now,  is  perhaps  this  :  that  an 
*  Attorney-General  of  Truth '  did  once  take  shape  of  a  body, 
as  Son  of  Adam,  on  our  Earth,  though  but  for  months  or 
moments  ;  and  ten  thousand  persons  of  respectability  attended, 
ere  yet  Chaos  and  Nox  had  reabsorbed  him. 

Hundred  and  thirty-three  Paris  Journals ;  regenerative 
Social  Circle ;  oratory,  in  Mother  and  Daughter  Societies, 
from  the  balconies  of  Inns,  by  chimney-nook,  at  dinner- table, 
— polemical,  ending  many  times  in  duel !  And  ever,  like  a 
constant  growling  accompaniment  of  bass  Discord  :  scarcity  of 
work,  scarcity  of  food.  The  winter  is  hard  and  cold ;  ragged 
Bakers'-queues,  like  a  black  tattered  flag-of-distress,  wave  out 
ever  and  anon.  It  is  the  third  of  our  Hunger-years,  this 
new  year  of  a  glorious  Revolution.  The  rich  man  when 
invited  to  dinner,  in  such  distress-seasons,  feels  bound  in 
politeness  to  carry  his  own  bread  in  his  pocket  :  how'  the 
poor  dine  ?  And  your  glorious  Revolution  has  done  it,  cries 
one.  And  our  glorious  Revolution  is  subtilely,  by  black  traitors 
worthy  of  the  Lamp-iron,  perverted  to  do  it,  cries  another. 
Who  will  paint  the  huge  whirlpool  wherein  France,  all  shivered 
into  wild  incoherence,  whirls  ?  The  jarring  that  went  on 
under  every  French  roof,  in  every  French  heart ;  the  diseased 
things  that  were  spoken,  done,  the  sum-total  whereof  is  the 
French  Revolution,  tongue  of  man  cannot  tell.  Nor  the  laws 
of  action  that  work  unseen  in  the  depths  of  that  huge  blind 
Incoherence  !  With  amazement,  not  with  measurement,  men 
look  on  the  Immeasurable ;  not  knowing  its  laws  ;  seeing, 

1  See  Brissot,  Patriote-Franfais  Newspaper ;   Fauchet,  Bouche-de-Fer,  etc. 
(excerpted  in  Hist.  Par/,  viii.  ix.  et  seqq.). 


SWORD    IN    HAND  113 

with  all  different  degrees  of  knowledge,  what  new  phases,  and 
results  of  event,  its  laws  bring  forth.  France  is  as  a  monstrous 
Galvanic  Mass,  wherein  all  sorts  of  far  stranger  than  chemical 
galvanic  or  electric  forces  and  substances  are  at  work ;  electri- 
fying one  another,  positive  and  negative ;  filling  with  electricity 
your  Leyden-jars, — Twenty-five  millions  in  number  !  As  the 
jars  get  full,  there  will,  from  time  to  time,  be,  on  slight  hint, 
an  explosion. 


CHAPTER   III 
SWORD   IN   HAND 

ON  such  wonderful  basis,  however,  has  Law,  Royalty, 
Authority,  and  whatever  yet  exists  of  visible  Order,  to  main- 
tain itself,  while  it  can.  Here,  as  in  that  Commixture  of  the 
Four  Elements  did  the  Anarch  Old,  has  an  august  Assembly 
spread  its  pavilion  ;  curtained  by  the  dark  infinite  of  discords ; 
founded  on  the  wavering  bottomless  of  the  Abyss ;  and  keeps 
continual  hubbub.  Time  is  around  it,  and  Eternity,  and  the 
Inane ;  and  it  does  what  it  can,  what  is  given  it  to  do. 

Glancing  reluctantly  in,  once  more,  we  discern  little  that 
is  edifying  :  a  Constitutional  Theory  of  Defective  Verbs 
struggling  forward,  with  perseverance,  amid  endless  interrup- 
tions :  Mirabeau,  from  his  tribune,  with  the  weight  of  his 
name  and  genius,  awing-down  much  Jacobin  violence ;  which 
in  return  vents  itself  the  louder  over  hi  its  Jacobins  Hall,  and 
even  reads  him  sharp  lectures  there.1  This  man's  path  is 
mysterious,  questionable ;  difficult,  and  he  walks  without  com- 
panion in  it.  Pure  Patriotism  does  not  now  count  him 
among  her  chosen  ;  pure  Royalism  abhors  him  :  yet  his  weight 
with  the  world  is  overwhelming.  Let  him  travel  on,  com- 
panionless,  unwavering,  whither  he  is  bound, — while  it  is  yet 
day  with  him,  and  the  night  has  not  come. 

But  the  chosen  band  of  pure  Patriot  brothers  is  small  ; 

1  Canaille's  Journal  (in  Hist.  Park  ix.  366-85). 
VOL.  n.  H 


114  THE    TUILERIES       [BK.  m. CH.  m. 

<»unting  only  some  Thirty,  seated  now  on  the  extreme  tip  of 
the  Left,  separate  from  the  world.  A  virtuous  Petion ;  an 
incorruptible  Robespierre,  most  consistent,  incorruptible  of 
thin  acrid  men  ;  Triumvirs  Barnave,  Duport,  Lameth,  great 
in  speech,  thought,  action,  each  according  to  his  kind  ;  a  lean 
old  Goupil  de  Prefeln :  on  these  and  what  will  follow  them 
has  pure  Patriotism  to  depend. 

There  too,  conspicuous  among  the  Thirty,  if  seldom  audible, 
Philippe  d'Orl&ins  may  be  seen  sitting :  in  dim  fuliginous  be- 
wilderment ;  having,  one  might  say,  arrived  at  Chaos  !  Gleams 
there  are,  at  once  of  a  Lieutenancy  and  Regency ;  debates  hi 
the  Assembly  itself,  of  succession  to  the  Throne  *  in  case  the 
present  Branch  should  fail ' ;  and  Philippe,  they  say,  walked 
anxiously,  hi  silence,  through  the  corridors,  till  such  high 
argument  were  done  :  but  it  came  all  to  nothing ;  Mirabeau, 
glaring  into  the  man,  and  through  him,  had  to  ejaculate  in 
strong  untranslatable  language  :  (  Ce  j — f- —  ne  vaut  pas  la 
peine  qtfon  se  donne  pour  lui."1  It  came  all  to  nothing ;  and 
in  the  meanwhile  Philippe's  money,  they  say,  is  gone !  Could 
he  refuse  a  little  cash  to  the  gifted  Patriot,  in  want  only  of 
that ;  he  himself  in  want  of  all  but  that  ?  Not  a  pamphlet 
can  be  printed  without  cash ;  or  indeed  written  without  food 
purchasable  by  cash.  Without  cash  your  hopefulest  Projector 
cannot  stir  from  the  spot ;  individual  patriotic  or  other 
Projects  require  cash;  how  much  more  do  wide-spread  Intrigues, 
which  live  and  exist  by  cash ;  lying  wide-spread,  with  dragon- 
appetite  for  cash ;  fit  to  swallow  Princedoms  !  And  so  Prince 
Philippe,  amid  his  Sillerys,  Lacloses  and  confused  Sons  of  Night, 
has  rolled  along :  the  centre  of  the  strangest  cloudy  coil ;  out 
of  which  has  visibly  come,  as  we  often  say,  an  Epic  Preter- 
natural Machinery  of  SUSPICION;  and  within  which  there  has 
dwelt  and  worked, — what  specialities  of  treason,  stratagem, 
aimed  or  aimless  endeavour  towards  mischief,  no  party  living 
(if  it  be  not  the  presiding  Genius  of  it,  Prince  of  the  Power 
of  the  Air)  has  now  any  chance  to  know.  Camille's  conjec- 
ture is  the  likeliest :  that  poor  Philippe  did  mount  up,  a  little 


AUG.  1790]  SWORD    IN    HAND  115 

way,  in  treasonable  speculation,  as  he  mounted  formerly  in  one 
of  the  earliest  Balloons ;  but,  frightened  at  the  new  position 
he  was  getting  into,  had  soon  turned  the  cock  again,  and  come 
down.  More  fool  than  he  rose !  To  create  Preternatur*! 
Suspicion,  this  was  his  function  in  the  Revolutionary  Epos. 
But  now  if  he  have  lost  his  cornucopia  of  ready-money,  what 
else  had  he  to  lose  ?  In  thick  darkness,  inward  and  outward, 
he  must  welter  and  flounder  on,  in  that  piteous  death-element, 
the  hapless  man.  Once,  or  even  twice,  we  shall  still  behold 
him  emerged ;  straggling  out  of  the  thick  death-element :  in 
vain.  For  one  moment,  it  is  the  last  moment,  he  starts  aloft, 
or  is  flung  aloft,  even  into  clearness  and  a  kind  of  memora- 
bility,— to  sink  then  for  evermore  ! 

The  C6t6  Droit  persists  no  less ;  nay  with  more  animation 
than  ever,  though  hope  has  now  well-nigh  fled.  Tough  Abbe 
Maury,  when  the  obscure  country  Royalist  grasps  his  hand 
with  transport  of  thanks,  answers,  rolling  his  indomitable 
brazen  head  :  'Helas,  Monsieur,  all  that  I  do  here  is  as  good  as 
simply  nothing."*  Gallant  Faussigny,  visible  this  one  time  in 
History,  advances  frantic  into  the  middle  of  the  Hall,  exclaim- 
ing :  *  There  is  but  one  way  of  dealing  with  it,  and  that  is 
to  fall  sword  in  hand  on  those  gentry  there,  sabre  a  la  main 
sur  ces  gaiUards  la?1  franticly  indicating  our  chosen  Thirty  on 
the  extreme  tip  of  the  Left  !  Whereupon  is  clangour  and 
clamour,  debate,  repentance, — evaporation.  Things  ripee 
towards  downright  incompatibility,  and  what  is  called  *  scission  *: 
that  fierce  theoretic  onslaught  of  Faussigny's  was  in  August 
1790;  next  August  will  not  have  come,  till  a  famed  Two 
Hundred  and  Ninety-two,  the  chosen  of  Royalism,  make 
solemn  final  *  scission""  from  an  Assembly  given  up  to  faction ; 
and  depart,  shaking  the  dust  off  their  feet. 

Connected  with  this  matter  of  sworcl  in  hand,  there  w  yet 
another  thing  to  be  noted.  Of  duels  we  have  sometimes  spoken  : 
how,  in  all  parts  of  France,  innumerable  duels  were  fought ; 

1  Afoniffur,  Stance  du  21  Aoflt  1790- 


116  THE    TUILERIES      [BK.  m.  CH.  IIL 

and  argumentative  men  and  messmates,  flinging  down  the 
wine-cup  and  weapons  of  reason  and  repartee,  met  in  the 
measured  field ;  to  part  bleeding ;  or  perhaps  not  to  part,  but 
to  fall  mutually  skewered  through  with  iron,  their  wrath  and 
life  alike  ending, — and  die  as  fools  die.  Long  has  this  lasted, 
and  still  lasts.  But  now  it  would  seem  as  if  in  an  august 
Assembly  itself,  traitorous  Royalism,  in  its  despair,  had  taken 
to  a  new  course :  that  of  cutting  off  Patriotism  by  systematic 
duel !  Bully  swordsmen,  *  Spadassins '  of  that  party,  go- 
swaggering  ;  or  indeed  they  can  be  had  for  a  trifle  of  money. 
*  Twelve  Spadassins '  were  seen,  by  the  yellow  eye  of  Journal- 
ism, 'arriving  recently  out  of  Switzerland';  also  'a  consider- 
able number  of  Assassins,  nombre  considerable  (Tassassins, 
exercising  in  fencing-schools  and  at  pistol-targets/  Any 
Patriot  Deputy  of  mark  can  be  called  out ;  let  him  escape  one 
time,  or  ten  times,  a  time  there  necessarily  is  when  he  must 
fall,  and  France  mourn.  How  many  cartels  has  Mirabeau 
had  ;  especially  while  he  was  the  People's  champion  !  Cartels 
by  the  hundred :  which  he,  since  the  Constitution  must  be 
made  first,  and  his  time  is  precious,  answers  now  always 
with  a  kind  of  stereotype  formula :  *  Monsieur,  you  are  put 
upon  my  List ;  but  I  warn  you  that  it  is  long,  and  I  grant 
no  preferences.' 

Then,  in  Autumn,  had  we  not  the  Duel  of  Cazales  and  Bar- 
nave  ;  the  two  chief  masters  of  tongue-shot  meeting  now  to 
exchange  pistol-shot?  For  Cazales,  chief  of  the  Royalists, 
whom  we  call  '  Blacks  or  Noirs?  said,  in  a  moment  of  passion, 
'the  Patriots  were  sheer  Brigands,'  nay  in  so  speaking,  he 
darted,  or  seemed  to  dart,  a  fire-glance  specially  at  Barnave ; 
who  thereupon  could  not  but  reply  by  fire-glances, — by 
adjournment  to  the  Bois-de-Boulogne.  Barnave's  second  shot 
took  effect :  on  Cazales'  hat.  The  '  front  nook'  of  a  triangu- 
lar Felt,  such  as  mortals  then  wore,  deadened  the  ball ;  and 
saved  that  fine  brow  from  more  than  temporary  injury.  But 
how  easily  might  the  lot  have  fallen  the  other  way,  and  Bar- 
nave's  hat  not  been  so  good !  Patriotism  raises  its  loud 


NOV.  11-13,  1790]     SWORD    IN    HAND  117 

denunciation  of  Duelling  in  general ;  petitions  an  august 
Assembly  to  stop  such  Feudal  barbarism  by  law.  Barbarism 
and  solecism  :  for  will  it  convince  or  convict  any  man  to  blow 
half  an  ounce  of  lead  through  the  head  of  him  ?  Surely  not. 
— Barnave  was  received  at  the  Jacobins  with  embraces,  yet 
with  rebukes. 

Mindful  of  which,  and  also  that  his  reputation  in  America 
was  that  of  headlong  foolhardiness  rather,  and  want  of  brain 
not  of  heart,  Charles  Lameth  does,  on  the  eleventh  day  of 
November,  with  little  emotion,  decline  attending  some  hot 
young  Gentleman  from  Artois,  come  expressly  to  challenge 
him  :  nay  indeed  he  first  coldly  engages  to  attend ;  then 
coldly  permits  two  Friends  to  attend  instead  of  him,  and 
shame  the  young  Gentleman  out  of  it,  which  they  successfully 
do.  A  cold  procedure ;  satisfactory  to  the  two  Friends,  to 
Lameth  and  the  hot  young  Gentleman ;  whereby,  one  might 
have  fancied,  the  whole  matter  was  cooled  down. 

Not  so,  however :  Lameth,  proceeding  to  his  senatorial 
duties,  in  the  decline  of  the  day,  is  met  in  those  Assembly 
corridors  by  nothing  but  Royalist  brocards ;  sniffs,  huffs  and 
open  insults.  Human  patience  has  its  limits  :  '  Monsieur,1 
said  Lameth,  breaking  silence  to  one  Lautrec,  a  man  with 
hunchback,  or  natural  deformity,  but  sharp  of  tongue,  and  a 
Black  of  the  deepest  tint,  *  Monsieur,  if  you  were  a  man  to 
be  fought  with  ! ' — *  I  am  one,'  cries  the  young  Duke  de 
Castries.  Fast  as  fire-flash  Lameth  replies,  'Tout  a  fheure^ 
On  the  instant,  then  ! '  And  so,  as  the  shades  of  dusk  thicken 
in  that  Bois-de-Boulogne,  we  behold  two  men  with  lion-look, 
with  alert  attitude,  side  foremost,  right  foot  advanced; 
flourishing  and  thrusting,  stoccado  and  passado,  in  tierce  and 
quart ;  intent  to  skewer  one  another.  See,  with  most  skewer- 
ing purpose,  headlong  Lameth,  with  his  whole  weight,  makes 
a  furious  lunge;  but  deft  Castries  whisks  aside:  Lameth 
skewers  only  the  air, — and  slits  deep  and  far,  on  Castries'* 
•swordVpoint,  his  own  extended  left  arm  !  Whereupon,  with 


118  THE    TUILERIES      [BK.  m.  CH.  in, 

bleeding,  pallor,  surgeon's-lint  and  formalities,  the  Duel  ia 
considered  satisfactorily  done. 

But  will  there  be  no  end,  then  ?  Beloved  Lameth  lies 
deep-slit,  not  out  of  danger.  Black  traitorous  Aristocrats 
kill  the  People's  defenders,  cut  up  not  with  arguments,  but 
with  rapier-slits.  And  the  Twelve  Spadasslns  out  of  Switzer- 
land, and  the  considerable  number  of  Assassins  exercising  at 
the  pistol-target  ?  So  meditates  and  ejaculates  hurt  Patriot- 
ism, with  ever-deepening,  ever-widening  fervour,  for  the  space 
of  six-and-thirty  hours. 

The  thirty-six  hours  past,  on  Saturday  the  13th,  one 
beholds  a  new  spectacle :  The  Rue  de  Varennes,  and  neigh- 
bouring Boulevard  des  Invalides,  covered  with  a  mixed  flowing 
multitude :  the  Castries  Hotel  gone  distracted,  devil-ridden, 
belching  from  every  window,  *  beds  with  clothes  and  curtains,' 
plate  of  silver  and  gold  with  filigree,  mirrors,  pictures,  images, 
commodes,  chiffoniers,  and  endless  crockery  and  jingle :  amid 
steady  popular  cheers,  absolutely  without  theft :  for  there  goes 
a  cry,  '  He  shall  be  hanged  that  steals  a  nail.'  It  is  a 
Pkbiscitum,  or  informal  iconoclastic  Decree  of  the  Common 
People,  in  the  course  of  being  executed ! — The  Municipality 
sit  tremulous ;  deliberating  whether  they  will  hang  out  the 
Drapeau  Rouge  and  Martial  Law  :  National  Assembly,  part 
in  loud  wail,  part  in  hardly  suppressed  applause;  Abbe  Maury 
unable  to  decide  whether  the  iconoclastic  Plebs  amount  to 
forty  thousand  or  to  two  hundred  thousand. 

Deputations,  swift  messengers, — for  it  is  at  a  distance  over 
the  River, — come  and  go.  Lafayette  and  National  Guards, 
though  without  Drapeau  Rouge,  get  under  way ;  apparently 
in  no  hot  haste.  Nay,  arrived  on  the  scene,  Lafayette  salutes 
with  doffed  hat,  before  ordering  to  fix  bayonets.  What  avails 
it  ?  The  Plebeian  *  Court  of  Cassation?  as  Camille  might 
punningly  name  it,  has  done  its  work ;  steps  forth,  with 
unbuttoned  vest,  with  pockets  turned  inside  out :  sack,  and 
just  ravage,  not  plunder  !  With  inexhaustible  patience,  the 
Hero  of  two  Worlds  remonstrates ;  persuasively,  with  a  kind 


I79i]        TO    FLY    OR    NOT   TO    FLY  11D 

of  sweet  constraint,  though  also  with  fixed  bayonets,  dissipates, 
hushes  down  :  on  the  morrow  it  is  once  more  all  as  usual. 

Considering  which  things,  however,  Duke  Castries  may 
justly  *  write  to  the  President,'  justly  transport  himself  across 
the  Marches ;  to  raise  a  corps,  or  do  what  else  is  in  him. 
Iloyalism  totally  abandons  that  Bobadilian  method  of  contest, 
and  the  twelve  Spadassins  return  to  Switzerland — or  even  to 
Dreamland  through  the  Horn-gate,  whichsoever  their  true 
home  is.  Nay  Editor  Prudhomme  is  authorised  to  publish  a 
curious  thing :  *  We  are  authorised  to  publish,"1  says  he,  dull- 
blustering  Publisher,  'that  M.  Boyer  champion  of  good 
Patriots  is  at  the  head  of  Fifty  Spadassinieides  or  Bully- 
killers.  His  address  is :  Passage  du  Bois-de- Boulogne,  Fau- 
bourg St.  Denis.'1  One  of  the  strangest  Institutes,  this  of 
Champion  Boyer  and  the  Bully-killers !  Whose  services, 
however,  are  not  wanted;  Iloyalism  having  abandoned  the 
rapier  method,  as  plainly  impracticable. 


CHAPTER   IV 
TO   FLY   OR  NOT  TO  FLY 

THE  truth  is,  Royalism  sees  itself  verging  towards  gad 
extremities ;  nearer  and  nearer  daily.  From  over  the  Rhine 
it  comes  asserted  that  the  King  in  his  Tuileries  is  not  free  : 
this  the  poor  King  may  contradict,  with  the  official  mouth, 
but  in  his  heart  feels  often  to  be  undeniable.  Civil  Constitu- 
tion of  the  Clergy;  Decree  of  ejectment  against  Dissidents 
from  it :  not  even  to  this  latter,  though  almost  his  conscience 
rebels,  can  he  say  Nay;  but,  after  two  months'  hesitating, 
signs  this  also.  It  was  'on  January  21st,'  of  this  1791,  that 
he  signed  it ;  to  the  sorrow  of  his  poor  heart  yet,  on  another 
Twenty-first  of  January!  Whereby  come  Dissident  ejected 

1  Revolution!  dt  Paris  (in  Hist.  Part.  Till  440). 


120  THE    TUlJLERIES       [BK.  III.  CH.  IV. 

Priests ;  unconquerable  Martyrs  according  to  some,  incurable 
chicaning  Traitors  according  to  others.  And  so  there  has 
arrived  what  we  once  foreshadowed :  with  Religion,  or  with 
the  Cant  and  Echo  of  Religion,  all  France  is  rent  asunder  in 
a  new  rupture  of  continuity ;  complicating,  embittering  all  the 
older  ; — to  be  cured  only  by  stern  surgery,  in  La  Vendee ! 

Unhappy  Royalty,  unhappy  Majesty,  Hereditary  Represen- 
tative, Representant  Hereditaire,  or  howsoever  they  may  name 
him ;  of  whom  much  is  expected,  to  whom  little  is  given  ! 
Blue  National  Guards  encircle  that  Tuileries ;  a  Lafayette, 
thin  constitutional  Pedant;  clear,  thin,  inflexible,  as  water 
turned  to  thin  ice;  whom  no  Queen's  heart  can  love. 
National  Assembly,  its  pavilion  spread  where  we  know,  sits 
near  by,  keeping  continual  hubbub.  From  without,  nothing 
but  Nanci  Revolts,  sack  of  Castries  Hotels,  riots  and  seditions; 
riots  North  and  South,  at  .Aix,  at  Douai,  at  Befort,  Usez, 
Perpignan,  at  Nismes,  and  that  incurable  Avignon  of  the 
Pope's :  a  continual  crackling  and  sputtering  of  riots  from 
the  whole  face  of  France ; — testifying  how  electric  it  grows. 
Add  only  the  hard  winter,  the  famished  strikes  of  operatives ; 
that  continual  running-bass  of  Scarcity,  ground-tone  and  basis 
of  all  other  Discords ! 

The  plan  of  Royalty,  so  far  as  it  can  be  said  to  have  any 
fixed  plan,  is  still,  as  ever,  that  of  flying  towards  the  frontiers. 
In  very  truth,  the  only  plan  of  the  smallest  promise  for  it ! 
Fly  to  Bouille ;  bristle  yourself  round  with  cannon,  served  by 
your  '  forty- thousand  undebauched  Germans  ' :  summon  the 
National  Assembly  to  follow  you,  summon  what  of  it  is 
Royalist,  Constitutional,  gainable  by  money ;  dissolve  the 
rest,  by  grapeshot  if  need  be.  Let  Jacobinism  and  Revolt, 
with  one  wild  wail,  fly  into  Infinite  Space ;  driven  by  grape- 
shot.  Thunder  over  France  with  the  cannon's  mouth ;  com- 
manding, not  entreating,  that  this  riot  cease.  And  then  to 
rule  afterwards  with  utmost  possible  Constitutionality ;  doing 
justice,  loving  mercy ;  being  Shepherd  of  this  indigent  People, 


I79i]        TO    FLY    OR    NOT    TO    FLY  1*1 

not  Shearer  merely,  and  ShephercTs-similitude !  All  this,  if 
ye  dare.  If  ye  dare  not,  then,  in  Heaven's  name,  go  to  sleep  : 
other  handsome  alternative  seems  none. 

Nay,  it  were  perhaps  possible ;  with  a  man  to  do  it.  For 
if  such  inexpressible  whirpool  of  Babylonish  confusions  (which 
our  Era  is)  cannot  be  stilled  by  man,  but  only  by  Time  and 
men,  a  man  may  moderate  its  paroxysms,  may  balance  and 
sway,  and  keep  himself  unswallowed  on  the  top  of  it, — as 
several  men  and  Kings  in  these  days  do.  Much  is  possible 
for  a  man ;  men  will  obey  a  man  that  kens  and  ca/w,  and 
name  him  reverently  their  Keiwwng  or  King.  Did  not 
Charlemagne  rule?  Consider,  too,  whether  he  had  smooth 
times  of  it ;  hanging  *  four-thousand  Saxons  over  the  Weser- 
Bridge,'  at  one  dread  swoop  !  So  likewise,  who  knows  but, 
in  this  same  distracted  fanatic  France,  the  right  man  may 
verily  exist  ?  An  olive-complexioned  taciturn  man ;  for  the 
present,  Lieutenant  in  the  Artillery-service,  who  once  sat 
studying  Mathematics  at  Brienne  ?  The  same  who  walked  in 
the  morning  to  correct  proof-sheets  at  Dole,  and  enjoyed  a 
frugal  breakfast  with  M.  Joly  ?  Such  a  one  is  gone,  whither 
also  famed  General  Paoli  his  friend  is  gone,  in  these  very  days, 
to  see  old  scenes  in  native  Corsica,  and  what  Democratic  good 
can  be  done  there. 

Royalty  never  executes  the  evasion  plan,  yet  never  abandons 
it ;  living  in  variable  hope ;  undecisive,  till  fortune  shall 
decide.  In  utmost  secrecy,  a  brisk  Correspondence  goes  on 
with  Bouille ;  there  is  also  a  plot,  which  emerges  more  than 
once,  for  carrying  the  King  to  Rouen : l  plot  after  plot 
emerging  and  submerging,  like  ignts  fatui  in  foul  weather, 
which  lead  nowhither.  *  About  ten  o'clock  at  night,1  the 
Hereditary  Representative,  in  partie  quarr6ey  with  the  Queen, 
with  Brother  Monsieur,  and  Madame,  sits  playing  *  twA-,'  or 
whist.  Usher  Campan  enters  mysteriously,  with  a  message  he 
only  half  comprehends :  How  a  certain  Comte  D'lnisdal  waits 
1  See  Hist.  Par/,  vii.  316 ;  Bcrtrand-Moleville,  etc. 


122  THE    TUILERIES      [BK.  m.  CH.  iv. 

anxious  in  the  outer  antechamber ;  National  Colonel,  Captain 
of  the  watch  for  this  night,  is  gained  over ;  post-horses  ready 
all  the  way;  party  of  Noblesse  sitting  armed,  determined^ 
will  his  Majesty,  before  midnight,  consent  to  go  ?  Profound 
silence ;  Campan  waiting  with  upturned  ear.  *  Did  your 
Majesty  hear  what  Campan  said  ? '  asks  the  Queen.  *  Yes,  I 
heard,'  answers  Majesty,  and  plays  on.  *  Twas  a  pretty 
couplet,  that  of  Campan's,'  hints  Monsieur,  who  at  timea 
showed  a  pleasant  wit :  Majesty,  still  unresponsive,  plays  wisk. 
'  After  all,  one  must  say  something  to  Campan,'  remarks  the 
Queen.  *  Tell  M.  D'Inisdal,'  said  the  King,  and  the  Queen 
puts  an  emphasis  on  it,  *  That  the  King  cannot  consent  to  be 
forced  away.'  —  *  I  see  ! '  said  D'lnisdal,  whisking  round, 
peaking  himself  into  flame  of  irritancy :  '  we  have  the  risk ; 
we  are  to  have  all  the  blame  if  it  fail,'1 — and  vanishes,  he 
and  his  plot,  as  will-o'-wisps  do.  The  Queen  sat  till  far  in 
the  night,  packing  jewels :  but  it  came  to  nothing ;  hi  that 
peaked  flame  of  irritancy  the  will-o'-wisp  had  gone  out. 

Little  hope  there  is  in  all  this.  Alas,  with  whom  to  fly  ? 
Our  loyal  Gardes-du-Corps,  ever  since  the  Insurrection  of 
Women,  are  disbanded ;  gone  to  their  homes  ;  gone,  many  of 
them,  across  the  Rhine  towards  Coblentz  and  Exiled  Princes  : 
brave  Miomandre  and  brave  Tardivet,  these  faithful  Twor 
have  received,  in  nocturnal  interview  with  both  Majesties, 
their  viaticum  of  gold  louis,  of  heartfelt  thanks  from  a 
Queen's  lips,  though  unluckily  '  his  Majesty  stood,  back  to 
fire,  not  speaking ' ; 2  and  do  now  dine  through  the  Provinces  ; 
recounting  hairsbreadth  escapes,  insurrectionary  horrors. 
Great  horrors,  to  be  swallowed  yet  of  greater.  But,  on  the 
whole,  what  a  falling-off  from  the  old  splendour  of  Versailles ! 
Here  in  this  poor  Tuileries  a  National  Brewer-Colonel, 
sonorous  Santerre,  parades  officially  behind  her  Majesty's 
chair.  Our  high  dignitaries  all  fled  over  the  Rhine  :  nothing 
now  to  be  gained  at  Court ;  but  hopes,  for  which  life  itself 
must  be  risked  !  Obscure  busy  men  frequent  the  back  stairs  v 
1  Campan,  ii.  105.  *  Ibid.  ii.  199-201. 


1791]        TO    FLY    OR    NOT    TO    FLY 

with  hearsays,  wind-projects,  unfruitful  fanfaronades.  Young 
Royalists,  at  the  Theatre  de  Vaudeville,  « sing  couplets ' ;  5 
that  could  do  anything.  Royalists  enough,  Captains  on 
furlough,  burnt-out  Seigneurs,  may  likewise  be  met  with,  *  in 
the  Cafe  de  Valois,  and  at  Meot  the  RestaurateurV  There 
they  fan  one  another  into  high  loyal  glow;  drink,  in  such 
wine  as  can  be  procured,  confusion  to  Sansculottism ;  show 
purchased  dirks,  of  an  improved  structure,  made  to  order; 
and,  greatly  daring,  dine.1  It  is  in  these  places,  in  these 
months,  that  the  epithet  Sansculotte  first  gets  applied  to 
indigent  Patriotism ;  in  the  last  age  we  had  Gilbert  Sanscu- 
lotte, the  indigent  Poet.2  Destitute-of-Breeches  :  a  mournful 
Destitution ;  which  however,  if  Twenty  millions  share  it,  may 
become  more  effective  than  most  Possessions ! 

Meanwhile,  amid  this  vague  dim  whirl  of  fanfaronades, 
wind-projects,  poniards  made  to  order,  there  does  disclose 
itself  one  punctum-saliens  of  life  and  feasibility  :  the  finger  of 
Mirabeau !  Mirabeau  and  the  Queen  of  France  have  met ; 
have  parted  with  mutual  trust !  It  is  strange ;  secret  as  the 
Mysteries ;  but  it  is  indubitable.  Mirabeau  took  horse,  one 
evening;  and  rode  westward,  unattended, — to  see  Friend 
Claviere  in  that  country-house  of  his?  Before  getting  to 
Claviere's,  the  much-musing  horseman  struck  aside  to  a  back 
gate  of  the  Garden  of  Saint-Cloud  :  some  Duke  D'Aremberg, 
or  the  like,  was  there  to  introduce  him ;  the  Queen  was  not 
far ;  on  a  *  round  knoll,  rond  point,  the  highest  of  the  Garden 
of  Saint-Cloud,1  he  beheld  the  Queen's  face ;  spake  with  her, 
alone,  under  the  void  canopy  of  Night.  "What  an  interview ; 
fateful,  secret  for  us,  after  all  searching ;  like  the  colloquies 
of  the  gods  ! 8  She  called  him  *  a  Mirabeau ' :  elsewhere  we 
read  that  she  *  was  charmed  with  him,'  the  wild  submitted 
Titan ;  as  indeed  it  is  among  the  honourable  tokens  of  this 
high  ill-fated  heart  that  no  mind  of  any  endowment,  no  Mira- 
beau, nay  no  Barnave,  no  Dumouriez,  ever  came  face  to  face 

1  Dampmartin,  ii.  129. 

1  Mercier,  Nouveau  Paris,  iii.  204.  '  Cam  pan,  ii.  c.  17. 


124  THE    TUILERIES       [BK.  m.  CH.  IV. 

with  her  but,  in  spite  of  all  prepossessions,  she  was  forced  to 
recognise  it,  to  draw  nigh  to  it,  with  trust.  High  imperial 
heart ;  with  the  instinctive  attraction  towards  all  that  had 
any  height !  '  You  know  not  the  Queen,'  said  Mirabeau  once 
in  confidence  ;  *  her  force  of  mind  is  prodigious  ;  she  is  a  man 
for  courage.'1 — And  so,  under  the  void  Night,  on  the  crown 
of  that  knoll,  she  has  spoken  with  a  Mirabeau  :  he  has  kissed 
loyally  the  queenly  hand,  and  said  with  enthusiasm  :  *  Madame, 
the  Monarchy  is  saved  ! ' — Possible  ?  The  Foreign  Powers, 
mysteriously  sounded,  gave  favourable  guarded  response ; 8 
Bouille  is  at  Metz,  and  could  find  forty-thousand  sure 
Germans.  With  a  Mirabeau  for  head,  and  a  Bouille  for 
hand,  something  verily  is  possible, — if  Fate  intervene  not. 

But  figure  under  what  thousandfold  wrappages,  and  cloaks 
of  darkness,  Royalty,  meditating  these  things,  must  involve 
itself.  There  are  men  with  '  Tickets  of  Entrance ' ;  there  are 
chivalrous  consultings,  mysterious  plottings.  Consider  also 
whether,  involve  as  it  like,  plotting  Royalty  can  escape  the 
glance  of  Patriotism  ;  lynx-eyes,  by  the  ten  thousand,  fixed  on 
it,  which  see  in  the  dark  !  Patriotism  knows  much :  knows 
the  dirks  made  to  order,  and  can  specify  the  shops ;  knows 
Sieur  Motier's  legions  of  mouchards ;  the  Tickets  of  Entrte, 
and  men  in  black ;  and  how  plan  of  evasion  succeeds  plan, — 
or  may  be  supposed  to  succeed  it.  Then  conceive  the  coup- 
lets chanted  at  the  Tlieatre  de  Vaudeville ;  or  worse,  the 
whispers,  significant  nods  of  traitors  in  mustachioes.  Con- 
ceive, on  the  other  hand,  the  loud  cry  of  alarm  that  came 
through  the  Hundred-and-Thirty  Journals  ;  the  Dionysius'-Ear 
of  each  of  the  Forty-Eight  Sections,  wakeful  night  and  day. 

Patriotism  is  patient  of  much ;  not  patient  of  all.  The 
Cafe  de  Procope  has  sent,  visibly  along  the  streets,  a  Depu- 
tation of  Patriots,  'to  expostulate  with  bad  Editors,'  by 
trustful  word  of  mouth  :  singular  to  see  and  hear.  The  bad 
Editors  promise  to  amend,  but  do  not.  Deputations  for 

1  Dumont,  p.  211. 

*  Correspondanct  Stcrite  (in  Hist.  Par!,  viii.  169-73). 


I79i]        TO    FLY    OR    NOT    TO    FLY  125 

change  of  Ministry  were  many;  Mayor  Bailly  joining  even 
with  Cordelier  Danton  in  such ;  and  they  have  prevailed. 
With  what  profit  ?  Of  Quacks,  willing  or  constrained  to  be 
Quacks,  the  race  is  everlasting :  Ministers  Duportail  and 
Dutertre  will  have  to  manage  much  as  Ministers  Latour-du- 
Pin  and  Cice  did.  So  welters  the  confused  world. 

But  now,  beaten  on  for  ever  by  such  inextricable  contra- 
dictory influences  and  evidences,  what  is  the  indigent  French 
Patriot,  in  these  unhappy  days,  to  believe,  and  walk  by? 
Uncertainty  all ;  except  that  he  is  wretched,  indigent ;  that 
a  glorious  Revolution,  the  wonder  of  the  Universe,  has  hitherto 
brought  neither  Bread  nor  Peace ;  being  marred  by  traitors, 
difficult  to  discover.  Traitors  that  dwell  in  the  dark,  invisible 
there ; — or  seen  for  moments,  in  pallid  dubious  twilight, 
stealthily  vanishing  thither !  Preternatural  Suspicion  once 
more  rules  the  minds  of  men. 

*  Nobody  here,'  writes  Carra,  of  the  Annales  Patriatiques, 
so  early  as  the  first  of  February,  *  can  entertain  a  doubt  of  the 
constant  obstinate  project  these  people  have  on  foot  to  get  the 
King  away  ;  or  of  the  perpetual  succession  of  manoeuvres  they 
employ  for  that/  Nobody :  the  watchful  Mother  of  Patriot- 
ism deputed  two  Members  to  her  Daughter  at  Versailles,  to 
examine  how  the  matter  looked  there.  Well,  and  there? 
Patriotic  Carra  continues  :  *  The  Report  of  these  two  deputies 
we  all  heard  with  our  own  ears  last  Saturday.  They  went 
with  others  ot  Versailles,  to  inspect  the  King's  Stables,  also  the 
stables  of  the  whilom  Gardes-du-Corps  :  they  found  there  from 
seven  to  eight  hundred  horses  standing  always  saddled  and 
bridled,  ready  for  the  road  at  a  moment's  notice.  The  same 
deputies,  moreover,  saw  with  their  own  two  eyes  several  Royal 
Carriages,  which  men  were  even  then  busy  loading  with  large 
well-stuffed  luggage-bags,'  leather  cow*,  as  we  call  them, 
•caches  de  cuir ;  *  the  Royal  Arms  on  the  panels  almost  entirely 
effaced.'  Momentous  enough  !  Also  *  on  the  same  day  the 
Marcchaussee,  or  Cavalry  Police,  did  assemble  with  arms,  horses 
and  baggage,' — and  disperse  again.  They  want  the  King  over 


126  THE    TUILERIES       [BK.  in.  CH.  IV. 

the  marches,  that  so  Emperor  Leopold  and  the  German  Princes, 
whose  troops  are  ready,  may  have  a  pretext  for  beginning : 
*  this,'  adds  Carra,  *  is  the  word  of  the  riddle :  this  is  lie 
reason  why  our  fugitive  Aristocrats  are  now  making  levies  of 
men  on  the  frontiers ;  expecting  that,  one  of  these  mornings, 
the  Executive  Chief  Magistrate  will  be  brought  over  to  them, 
and  the  civil  war  commence.' l 

If  indeed  the  Executive  Chief  Magistrate,  bagged,  say  in 
one  of  these  leather  cows,  were  once  brought  safe  over  to 
them !  But  the  strangest  thing  of  all  is,  that  Patriotism, 
whether  barking  at  a  venture,  or  guided  by  some  instinct  of 
preternatural  sagacity,  is  actually  barking  aright  this  time ; 
at  something,  not  at  nothing.  Bouille  Secret  Correspondence, 
since  made  public,  testifies  as  much. 

Nay,  it  is  undeniable,  visible  to  all,  that  Mesdames  the 
King's  Aunts  are  taking  steps  for  departure :  asking  passports 
<of  the  Ministry,  safe-conducts  of  the  Municipality;  which 
Marat  warns  all  men  to  beware  of.  They  will  carry  gold 
with  them,  *  these  old  Beguines ' ;  nay  they  will  carry  the 
little  Dauphin,  *  having  nursed  a  changeling,  for  some  time, 
to  leave  in  his  stead ' !  Besides,  they  are  as  some  light  sub- 
stance flung  up,  to  show  how  the  wind  sits ;  a  kind  of  proof- 
kite  you  fly  off  to  ascertain  whether  the  grand  paper-kite, 
Evasion  of  the  King,  may  mount ! 

In  these  alarming  circumstances,  Patriotism  is  not  wanting 
to  itself.  Municipality  deputes  to  the  King ;  Sections  depute 
to  the  Municipality;  a  National  Assembly  will  soon  stir. 
Meanwhile,  behold,  on  the  19th  of  February  1791,  Mesdames, 
quitting  Bellevue  and  Versailles  with  all  privacy,  are  off! 
Towards  Rome,  seemingly ;  or  one  knows  not  whither.  They 
are  not  without  King's  passports,  countersigned ;  and  what  is 
more  to  the  purpose,  a  serviceable  Escort.  The  Patriotic 
Mayor  or  Mayorlet  of  the  Village  of  Moret  tried  to  detain 
them  :  but  brisk  Louis  de  Narbonne,  of  the  Escort,  dashed  off 
at  hand-gallop ;  returned  soon  with  thirty  dragoons,  and 
1  Carra's  Newspaper,  ist  Feb.  1791  (in  Hist.  Parl.  ix.  39). 


FEB.  19,  1791]     TO    FLY    OR    NOT    TO    FLY       127 

victoriously  cut  them  out.  And  so  the  poor  ancient  women 
go  their  way :  to  the  terror  of  France  and  Paris,  whose 
nervous  excitability  is  become  extreme.  Who  else  would 
hinder  poor  Loque  and  Grailk,  now  grown  so  old,  and  fallen 
into  such  unexpected  circumstances,  when  gossip  itself  turning 
only  on  terrors  and  horrors  is  no  longer  pleasant  to  the  mind, 
and  you  cannot  get  so  much  as  an  orthodox  confessor  in  peace, 
— from  going  what  way  soever  the  hope  of  any  solacement 
might  lead  them  ? 

They  go,  poor  ancient  dames, — whom  the  heart  were  hard 
that  did  not  pity  :  they  go ;  with  palpitations,  with  unmelo- 
dious  suppressed  screechings ;  all  France  screeching  and  cack- 
ling, in  loud  unsuppressed  terror,  behind  and  on  both  hands 
of  them  :  such  mutual  suspicion  is  among  men.  At  Arnay  le 
Due,  above  halfway  to  the  frontiers,  a  Patriotic  Municipality 
and  Populace  again  takes  courage  to  stop  them :  Louis  Nar- 
bonne  must  now  back  to  Paris,  must  consult  the  National 
Assembly.  National  Assembly  answers,  not  without  an  effort, 
that  Mesdames  may  go.  Whereupon  Paris  rises  worse  than 
ever,  screeching  half-distracted.  Tuileries  and  precincts  are 
filled  with  women  and  men,  while  the  National  Assembly 
debates  this  question  of  questions ;  Lafayette  is  needed  at 
night  for  dispersing  them,  and  the  streets  are  to  be  illuminated. 
Commandant  Berthier,  a  Berthier  before  whom  are  great  things 
unknown,  lies  for  the  present  under  blockade  at  Bellevue  in 
Versailles.  By  no  tactics  could  he  get  Mesdames''  Luggage 
stirred  from  the  Courts  there ;  frantic  Versaillese  women  came 
screaming  about  him ;  his  very  troops  cut  the  wagon-traces ; 
he  '  retired  to  the  interior,'  waiting  better  times.1 

Nay  in  these  same  hours,  while  Mesdames,  hardly  cut  out 
from  Moret  by  the  sabre's  edge,  are  driving  rapidly,  to  foreign 
parts,  and  not  yet  stopped  at  Arnay,  their  august  Nephew 
poor  Monsieur,  at  Paris,  has  dived  deep  into  his  cellars  of  the 
Luxembourg  for  shelter ;  and,  according  to  Montgaillard,  can 
hardly  be  persuaded  up  again.  Screeching  multitudes  environ 

1  Campan,  ii.  13* 


128  THE    TUILERIES       [BK.  in.  CH.  v. 

that  Luxembourg  of  his ;  drawn  thither  by  report  of  his 
departure  :  but  at  sight  and  sound  of  Monsieur,  they  become 
crowing  multitudes ;  and  escort  Madame  and  him  to  the 
Tuileries  with  vivats.1  It  is  a  state  of  nervous  excitability 
such  as  few  nations  know. 


CHAPTER    V 

THE  DAY   OF   PONIARDS 

On,  again,  what  means  this  visible  reparation  of  the  Castle 
of  Vincennes  ?  Other  Jails  being  all  crowded  with  prisoners, 
new  space  is  wanted  here  :  that  is  the  Municipal  account.  For 
in  such  changing  of  Judicatures,  Parlements  being  abolished, 
and  New  Courts  but  just  set  up,  prisoners  have  accumulated. 
Not  to  say  that  in  these  times  of  discord  and  club-law,  offences 
and  committals  are,  at  any  rate,  more  numerous.  Which 
Municipal  account,  does  it  not  sufficiently  explain  the  pheno- 
menon ?  Surely,  to  repair  the  Castle  of  Vincennes  was  of  all 
enterprises  that  an  enlightened  Municipality  could  undertake 
the  most  innocent. 

Not  so,  however,  does  neighbouring  Saint- Antoine  look  on 
it :  Saint- Antoine,  to  whom  these  peaked  turrets  and  grim 
donjons,  all- too  near  her  own  dark  dwelling,  are  of  themselves 
an  offence.  Was  not  Vincennes  a  kind  of  minor  Bastille  ? 
Great  Diderot  and  Philosophes  have  lain  in  durance  here  ; 
great  Mirabeau,  in  disastrous  eclipse,  for  forty-two  months. 
And  now  when  the  old  Bastille  has  become  a  dancing-ground 
(had  any  one  the  mirth  to  dance),  and  its  stones  are  getting 
built  into  the  Pont  Louis-Seize,  does  this  minor,  comparative 
insignificance  of  a  Bastille  flank  itself  with  fresh-hewn  mullions, 
spread  out  tyrannous  wings ;  menacing  Patriotism  ?  New 
space  for  prisoners  :  and  what  prisoners  ?  A  D'Orleans,  with 
the  chief  Patriots  on  the  tip  of  the  Left  ?  It  is  said,  there 

1  Montgaillard,  iL  282  ;  Deux  Amis,  vi.  c.  1. 


FEB.  28, 1791]   THE    DAY    OF    PONIARDS     129 

runs  *  a  subterranean  passage  *  all  the  way  from  the  Tuileries 
hither.  Who  knows  ?  Paris,  mined  with  quarries  and  cata- 
combs, does  hang  wondrous  over  the  abyss ;  Paris  was  once  to 
be  blown  up, — though  the  powder,  when  we  went  to  look, 
had  got  withdrawn.  A  Tuileries,  sold  to  Austria  and 
Coblentz,  should  have  no  subterranean  passage.  Out  of  which 
might  not  Coblentz  or  Austria  issue,  some  morning  ;  and, 
with  cannon  of  long  range,  'foudroyer?  bethunder  a  patriotic 
Saint- Antoine  into  smoulder  and  ruin  ! 

So  meditates  the  benighted  soul  of  Saint- Antoine,  as  it  sees 
the  aproned  workmen,  in  early  spring,  busy  on  these  towers. 
An  official-speaking  Municipality,  a  Sieur  Metier  with  his 
legions  of  mouchards,  deserve  no  trust  at  all.  Were  Patriot 
Santerre,  indeed,  Commander !  But  the  sonorous  Brewer 
commands  only  our  own  Battalion  :  of  such  secrets  he  can 
explain  nothing,  knows  nothing,  perhaps  suspects  much.  And 
so  the  work  goes  on ;  and  afflicted  benighted  Saint- Antoine 
hears  rattle  of  hammers,  sees  stones  suspended  in  air.1 

Saint- Antoine  prostrated  the  first  great  Bastille  :  will  it 
falter  over  this  comparative  insignificance  of  a  Bastille  ? 
Friends,  what  if  we  took  pikes,  firelocks,  sledge-hammers  ; 
and  helped  ourselves  ! — Speedier  is  no  remedy  ;  nor  so  certain. 
On  the  28th  day  of  February,  Saint- Antoine  turns  out,  as  it 
has  now  often  done  ;  and,  apparently  with  little  superfluous 
tumult,  moves  eastward  to  that  eye-sorrow  of  Vincennes. 
With  grave  voice  of  authority,  no  need  of  bullying  and  shout- 
ing, Saint- Antoine  signifies  to  parties  concerned  there,  that  its 
purpose  is,  To  have  this  suspicious  Stronghold  razed  level 
with  the  general  soil  of  the  country.  Remonstrance  may  be 
proffered,  with  zeal ;  but  it  avails  not.  The  outer  gate  goes 
up,  drawbridges  tumble  ;  iron  window-stanchions,  smitten  out 
with  sledge-hammers,  become  iron-crowbars  :  it  rains  a  rain  of 
furniture,  stone-masses,  slates  :  with  chaotic  clatter  and  rattle, 
Demolition  clatters  down.  And  now  hasty  expresses  rush 
through  the  agitated  streets,  to  warn  Lafayette,  and  the  Muni- 

1  Montgaillard,  ii.  285. 
VOL.  n.  I 


180  THE    TUILERIES        [BK.  m.  CH.  v. 

cipal  and  Departmental  Authorities ;  Rumour  warns  a  National 
Assembly,  a  Royal  Tuileries,  and  all  men  who  care  to  hear  it 
That  Saint- Antoine  is  up ;  that  Vincennes,  and  probably  the 
last  remaining  Institution  of  the  Country,  is  coming  down.1 

Quick,  then !  Let  Lafayette  roll  his  drums  and  fly  east- 
ward; for  to  all  Constitutional  Patriots  this  is  again  bad 
news.  And  you,  ye  Friends  of  Royalty,  snatch  your  poniards 
of  improved  structure,  made  to  order ;  your  sword-canes, 
secret  arms,  and  tickets  of  entry ;  quick,  by  backstairs  pas- 
sages, rally  round  the  Son  of  Sixty  Kings.  An  effervescence 
probably  got  up  by  D'Orleans  and  Company,  for  the  over- 
throw of  Throne  and  Altar  :  it  is  said  her  Majesty  shall  be 
put  in  prison,  put  out  of  the  way ;  what  then  will  his  Majesty 
be  ?  Clay  for  the  Sansculottic  Potter  !  Or  were  it  impossible 
to  fly  this  day  ;  a  brave  Noblesse  suddenly  all  rallying  ?  Peril 
threatens,  hope  invites  :  Dukes  de  Villequier,  de  Duras, 
Gentlemen  of  the  Chamber  give  Tickets  and  admittance;  a 
brave  Noblesse  is  suddenly  all  rallying.  Now  were  the  time 
to  *  fall  sword  in  hand  on  those  gentry  there,'  could  it  be  done 
with  effect. 

The  Hero  of  two  Worlds  is  on  his  white  charger :  blue 
Nationals,  horse  and  foot,  hurrying  eastward ;  Santerre,  with 
the  Saint- Antoine  Battalion,  is  already  there, — apparently 
indisposed  to  act.  Heavy-laden  Hero  of  two  Worlds,  what 
tasks  are  these  !  The  jeerings,  provocative  gambollings  of 
that  Patriot  Suburb,  which  is  all  out  on  the  streets  now,  are 
hard  to  endure  ;  unwashed  Patriots  jeering  in  sulky  sport ; 
one  unwashed  Patriot  *  seizing  the  General  by  the  boot,' 
to  unhorse  him.  Santerre,  ordered  to  fire,  makes  answer 
obliquely,  '  These  are  the  men  that  took  the  Bastille ' ;  and 
not  a  trigger  stirs.  Neither  dare  the  Vincennes  Magistracy 
give  warrant  of  arrestment,  or  the  smallest  countenance  : 
wherefore  the  General  'will  take  it  on  himself'  to  arrest.  By 
promptitude,  by  cheerful  adroitness,  patience  and  brisk  valour 
without  limits,  the  riot  may  be  again  bloodlessly  appeased. 
1  Deux  Amis,  vi  11-15  >  Newspapers  (in  Hist.  Par/,  ix.  111-17). 


FEB.  28,  1791]    THE    DAY    OF    PONIARDS     131 

Meanwhile  the  rest  of  Paris,  with  more  or  less  unconcern, 
may  mind  the  rest  of  its  business :  for  what  is  this  but  an 
effervescence,  of  which  there  are  now  so  many  ?  The  National 
Assembly,  in  one  of  its  stormiest  moods,  is  debating  a  Law 
against  Emigration ;  Mirabeau  declaring  aloud,  '  I  swear 
beforehand  that  I  will  not  obey  it/  Mirabeau  is  often  at 
the  Tribune  this  day ;  with  endless  impediments  from  with- 
out ;  with  the  old  unabated  energy  from  within.  What  can 
murmurs  and  clamours,  from  Left  or  from  Right,  do  to  this 
man;  like  Teneriffe  or  Atlas  unremoved?  With  clear  thought; 
with  strong  bass  voice,  though  at  first  low,  uncertain,  he 
claims  audience,  sways  the  storm  of  men :  anon  the  sound  of 
him  waxes,  softens;  he  rises  into  far-sounding  melody  of 
strength,  triumphant,  which  subdues  all  hearts;  his  rude 
seamed  face,  desolate,  fire-scathed,  becomes  fire-lit  and 
radiates :  once  again  men  feel,  in  these  beggarly  ages,  what 
is  the  potency  and  omnipotencv  of  man's  word  on  the  souls  of 
men.  *  I  will  triumph,  or  be  torn  in  fragments.'1  he  was  once 
heard  to  say.  *  Silence,'  he  cries  now,  in  strong  word  of  com- 
mand, in  imperial  consciousness  of  strength,  *  Silence,  the  thirty 
voices,  Silence  aux  trente  voix!  — and  Robespierre  and  the 
Thirty  Voices  die  into  mutterings ;  and  the  Law  is  once  more 
as  Mirabeau  would  have  it. 

How  different,  at  the  same  instant,  is  General  Lafayette's 
street-eloquence ;  wrangling  with  sonorous  Brewers,  with  «m 
ungrammatical  Saint- Antoine !  Most  different,  again,  from 
both  is  the  Cafe*-de-Valois  eloquence,  and  suppressed  fanfaro- 
nade, of  this  multitude  of  men  with  Tickets  of  Entry ;  who 
are  now  inundating  the  Corridors  of  the  Tuileries.  Such 
things  can  go  on  simultaneously  in  one  City.  How  much 
more  in  one  Country ;  in  one  Planet  with  its  discrepancies, 
every  Day  a  mere  crackling  infinitude  of  discrepancies, — which 
nevertheless  do  yield  some  coherent  net-product,  though  an 
infinitesimally  small  one ! 

But  be  this  as  it  may,  Lafayette  has  saved  Vincennes ;  and 
is  marching  homewards  with  some  dozen  of  arrested  demoli- 


132  THE    TUILERIES       [BK.  in.  CH.  v. 

tionists.  Royalty  is  not  yet  saved ; — nor  indeed  specially 
endangered.  But  to  the  King's  Constitutional  Guard,  to 
these  old  Gardes  Francaises,  or  Centre  Grenadiers,  as  it 
chanced  to  be,  this  affluence  of  men  with  Tickets  of  Entry 
is  becoming  more  and  more  unintelligible.  Is  his  Majesty 
verily  for  Metz,  then ;  to  be  carried  off  by  these  men,  on  the 
spur  of  the  instant  ?  That  revolt  of  Saint- Antoine  got  up 
by  traitor  Royalists  for  a  stalking-horse?  Keep  a  sharp 
outlook,  ye  Centre  Grenadiers  on  duty  here  :  good  never  came 
from  the  *  men  in  black.  Nay  they  have  cloaks,  ridingotes ; 
some  of  them  leather-breeches,  boots, — as  if  for  instant 
riding  !  Or  what  is  this  that  sticks  visible  from  the  lapelle 
of  Chevalier  de  Court  ?  l  Too  like  the  handle  of  some  cutting 
or  stabbing  instrument !  He  glides  and  goes ;  and  still  the 
dudgeon  sticks  from  his  left  lapelle.  '  Hold,  Monsieur  ! ' — 
a  Centre  Grenadier  clutches  him ;  clutches  the  protrusive 
dudgeon,  whisks  it  out  in  the  face  of  the  world  :  by  Heaven, 
a  very  dagger ;  hunting-knife  or  whatsoever  you  will  call  it ; 
fit  to  drink  the  life  of  Patriotism  ! 

So  fared  it  with  Chevalier  de  Court,  early  in  the  day ;  not 
without  noise ;  not  without  commentaries.  And  now  this 
continually  increasing  multitude  at  nightfall  ?  Have  they 
daggers  too  ?  Alas,  with  them  too,  after  angry  parleyings, 
there  has  begun  a  groping  and  a  rummaging;  all  men  in 
black,  spite  of  their  Tickets  of  Entry,  are  clutched  by  the 
collar,  and  groped.  Scandalous  to  think  of:  for  always,  as 
the  dirk,  sword-cane,  pistol,  or  were  it  but  tailor's  bodkin, 
is  found  on  him,  and  with  loud  scorn  drawn  forth  from  him, 
he,  the  hapless  man  in  black,  is  flung  ail-too  rapidly  down 
stairs.  Flung ;  and  ignominiously  descends,  head  foremost ; 
accelerated  by  ignominious  shovings  from  sentry  after  sentry ; 
nay,  as  it  is  written,  by  smitings,  twitchings, — spurnings  a 
posteriori,  not  to  be  named.  In  this  accelerated  way  emerges, 
uncertain  which  end  uppermost,  man  after  man  in  black, 
through  all  issues,  into  the  Tuileries  Garden ;  emerges,  alas, 
1  Weber,  ii.  286. 


FEB.  28,  179 1 1   THE    DAY    OF    PONIARDS     133 

into  the  arms  of  an  indignant  multitude,  now  gathered  and 
gathering  there,  in  the  hour  of  dusk,  to  see  what  is  toward, 
and  whether  the  Hereditary  Representative  is  carried  off  or 
not.  Hapless  men  in  black ;  at  last  convicted  of  poniards 
made  to  order ;  convicted  *  Chevaliers  of  the  Poniard ' ! 
Within  is  as  the  burning  ship ;  without  is  as  the  deep  sea. 
Within  is  no  help ;  his  Majesty,  looking  forth,  one  moment, 
from  his  interior  sanctuaries,  coldly  bids  all  visitors  *  give  up 
their  weapons ' ;  and  shuts  the  door  again.  The  weapons 
given  up  form  a  heap :  the  convicted  Chevaliers  of  the 
Poniard  keep  descending  pell-mell,  with  impetuous  velocity ; 
and  at  the  bottom  of  all  staircases  the  mixed  multitude 
receives  them,  hustles,  buffets,  chases  and  disperses  them.1 

Such  sight  meets  Lafayette,  in  the  dusk  of  the  evening,  as 
he  returns,  successful  with  difficulty  at  Vincennes :  Sansculotte 
Scylla  hardly  weathered,  here  is  Aristocrat  Charybdis  gurgling 
under  his  lee  !  The  patient  Hero  of  two  Worlds  almost  loses 
temper.  He  accelerates,  does  not  retard,  the  flying  Chevaliers ; 
delivers,  indeed,  this  or  the  other  hunted  Loyalist  of  quality, 
but  rates  him  in  bitter  words,  such  as  the  hour  suggested ; 
such  as  no  saloon  could  pardon.  Hero  ill-bestead ;  h«*»gfag, 
so  to  speak,  in  mid-air;  hateful  to  Rich  divinities  above; 
hateful  to  Indigent  mortals  below !  Duke  de  Villequier, 
Gentleman  of  the  Chamber,  gets  such  contumelious  rating,  in 
presence  of  all  people  there,  that  he  may  see  good  first  to 
exculpate  himself  in  the  Newspapers  ;  then,  that  not  prospering, 
to  retire  over  the  Frontiers,  and  begin  plotting  at  Brussels.1 
His  Apartment  will  stand  vacant ;  usefuller,  as  we  may  find, 
than  when  it  stood  occupied. 

So  fly  the  Chevaliers  of  the  Poniard ;  hunted  of  Patriotic 
men,  shamefully  in  the  thickening  dusk.  A  dim  miserable 
business ;  born  of  darkness ;  dying  away  there  in  the  thicken- 
ing dusk  and  dimness.  In  the  midst  of  which,  however,  let 
the  reader  discern  clearly  one  figure  running  for  its  life : 
Crispin-Catiline  d'Espremenil, — for  the  last  time,  or  the  last 
1  Hist.  Parl.  ix.  139-48.  •  MontgtUUrd,  ii.  aSd. 


134  THE    TUILERIES       [BK.  m.  CH.  v, 

but  one.  It  is  not  yet  three  years  since  these  same  Centre 
Grenadiers,  Gardes  Francaises  then,  marched  him  towards  the 
Calypso  Isles,  in  the  grey  of  the  May  morning ;  and  he  and 
they  have  got  thus  far.  Buffeted,  beaten  down,  delivered  by 
popular  Petion,  he  might  well  answer  bitterly :  '  And  I  too, 
Monsieur,  have  been  carried  on  the  People's  shoulders.11  A 
fact  which  popular  Petion,  if  he  like,  can  meditate. 

But  happily,  one  way  and  another,  the  speedy  night  covers 
up  this  ignominious  Day  of  Poniards ;  and  the  Chevaliers 
escape,  though  maltreated,  with  torn  coat-skirts  and  heavy 
hearts,  to  their  respective  dwelling-houses.  Riot  twofold  is 
quelled ;  and  little  blood  shed,  if  it  be  not  insignificant  blood 
from  the  nose  :  Vincennes  stands  undemolished,  reparable  ;  and 
the  Hereditary  Representative  has  not  been  stolen,  nor  the 
Queen  smuggled  into  Prison.  A  day  long  remembered : 
commented  on  with  loud  hahas  and  deep  grumblings ;  with 
bitter  scornfulness  of  triumph,  bitter  rancour  of  defeat. 
Royalism,  as  usual,  imputes  it  to  D'Orleans  and  the  Anarchists 
intent  on  insulting  Majesty:  Patriotism,  as  usual,  to  Royalists., 
and  even  Constitutionalists,  intent  on  stealing  Majesty  to 
Metz :  we,  also  as  usual,  to  Preternatural  Suspicion,  and 
Phoebus  Apollo  having  made  himself  like  the  Night. 

Thus,  however,  has  the  reader  seen,  in  an  unexpected  arena, 
on  this  last  day  of  February  1791,  the  Three  long-contending 
elements  of  French  Society  dashed  forth  into  singular  comico- 
tragical  collision ;  acting  and  reacting  openly  to  the  eye. 
Constitutionalism,  at  once  quelling  Sansculottic  riot  at  Vin- 
cennes, and  Royalist  treachery  in  the  Tuileries,  is  great,  this 
day,  and  prevails.  As  for  poor  Royalism,  tossed  to  and  fro 
in  that  manner,  its  daggers  all  left  in  a  heap,  what  can  one 
think  of  it  ?  Every  dog,  the  Adage  says,  has  its  day :  has 
it ;  has  had  it ;  or  will  have  it.  For  the  present,  the  day  is 
Lafayette's  and  the  Constitution's.  Nevertheless  Hunger 
and  Jacobinism,  fast  growing  fanatical,  still  work ;  their  day,, 

1  See  Mercier,  ii.  40,  202. 


MARCH  1791]  MIRABEAU  135 

were  they  once  fanatical,  will  come.  Hitherto,  in  all  tempests, 
Lafayette,  like  some  divine  Sea-ruler,  raises  his  serene  head : 
the  upper  yEolus  blasts  fly  back  to  their  caves,  like  foolish 
unbidden  winds :  the  under  sea-billows  they  had  vexed  into 
froth  allay  themselves.  But  if,  as  we  often  write,  the 
submarine  Titanic  Fire-powers  came  into  play,  the  Ocean-bed 
from  beneath  being  burst  ?  If  they  hurled  Poseidon  Lafayette 
and  his  Constitution  out  of  Space  ;  and,  in  the  Titan;c  melly, 
sea  were  mixed  with  sky  ? 


CHAPTER    VI 

MIRABEAU 

THE  spirit  of  France  waxes  ever  more  acrid,  fever-sick 
towards  the  final  outburst  of  dissolution  and  delirium. 
Suspicion  rules  all  minds :  contending  parties  cannot  now 
commingle ;  stand  separated  sheer  asunder,  eyeing  one  another, 
in  most  aguish  mood,  of  cold  terror  or  hot  rage.  Counter- 
Revolution,  Days  of  Poniards,  Castries  Duels;  Flight  of 
Mesdames,  of  Monsieur  and  Royalty !  Journalism  shrills 
ever  louder  its  cry  of  alarm.  The  sleepless  Dionysius-Ear  of 
the  Forty-eight  Sections,  how  feverishly  quick  has  it  grown ; 
convulsing  with  strange  pangs  the  whole  sick  Body,  as  in  such 
sleeplessness  and  sickness  the  ear  will  do ! 

Since  Royalists  get  Poniards  made  to  order,  and  a  Sieur 
Motier  is  no  better  than  he  should  be,  shall  not  Patriotism  too, 
even  of  the  indigent  sort,  have  Pikes,  secondhand  Firelocks,  in 
readiness  for  the  worst  ?  The  anvils  ring,  during  this  March 
month,  with  hammering  of  Pikes.  A  Constitutional  Munici- 
pality promulgated  its  Placard,  that  no  citizen  except  the 
*  active '  or  cash-citizen  was  entitled  to  have  arms ;  but  there 
rose,  instantly  responsive,  such  a  tempest  of  astonishment  from 
Club  and  Section,  that  the  Constitutional  Placard,  almost  next 
morning,  had  to  cover  itself  up,  and  die  away  into  inanity,  in 


186  THE    TUILERIES      [BK.  in.  CH.  VL 

a  second  improved  edition.1     So  the  hammering  continues  ;  as 
all  that  it  betokens  does. 

Mark,  again,  how  the  extreme  tip  of  the  Left  is  mounting 
in  favour,  if  not  in  its  own  National  Hall,  yet  with  the  Nation, 
especially  with  Paris.  For  in  such  universal  panic  of  doubt, 
the  opinion  that  is  sure  of  itself,  as  the  meagrest  opinion  may 
the  soonest  be,  is  the  one  to  which  all  men  will  rally.  Great 
is  Belief,  were  it  never  so  meagre;  and  leads  captive  the 
doubting  heart.  Incorruptible  Robespierre  has  been  elected 
Public  Accuser  in  our  new  Courts  of  Judicature;  virtuous 
Petion,  it  is  thought,  may  rise  to  be  Mayor.  Cordelier 
Danton,  called  also  by  triumphant  majorities,  sits  at  the 
Departmental  Council-table ;  colleague  there  of  Mirabeau. 
Of  incorruptible  Robespierre  it  was  long  ago  predicted  that 
he  might  go  far,  mean  meagre  mortal  though  he  was  ;  for 
Doubt  dwelt  not  in  him. 

Under  which  circumstances  ought  not  Royalty  likewise  to 
cease  doubting,  and  begin  deciding  and  acting  ?  Royalty  has  . 
always  that  sure  trump-card  in  its  hand :  Flight  out  of  Paris. 
Which  sure  trump-card  Royalty,  as  we  see,  keeps  ever  and 
anon  clutching  at,  grasping  ;  and  swashes  it  forth  tentatively ; 
yet  never  tables  it,  still  puts  it  back  again.  Play  it,  O  • 
Royalty !  If  there  be  a  chance  left,  this  seems  it,  and  verily 
the  last  chance ;  and  now  every  hour  is  rendering  this  a  doubt- 
fuler.  Alas,  one  would  so  fain  both  fly  and  not  fly ;  play 
one's  card  and  have  it  to  play.  Royalty,  in  all  human  likeli- 
hood, will  not  play  its  trump-card  till  the  honours,  one  after 
one,  be  mainly  lost ;  and  such  trumping  of  it  prove  to  be  the 
sudden  finish  of  the  game  ! 

Here  accordingly  a  question  always  arises  ;  of  the  prophetic 
sort ;  which  cannot  now  be  answered.  Suppose  Mirabeau, 
with  whom  Royalty  takes  deep  counsel,  as  with  a  Prime 
Minister  that  cannot  yet  legally  avow  himself  as  such,  had  got 
his  arrangements  completed?  Arrangements  he  has;  far- 
stretching  plans  that  dawn  fitfully  on  us,  by  fragments,  in 
1  Ordonnance  du  17  Mars  1791  (Hist.  Parl.  ix.  257). 


MARCH  1791]  MIRABEAU  187 

the  confused  darkness.  Thirty  Departments  ready  to  sign 
loyal  Addresses,  of  prescribed  tenor:  King  carried  out  of 
Paris,  but  only  to  Compiegne  and  Rouen,  hardly  to  Metz, 
since,  once  for  all,  no  Emigrant  rabble  shall  take  the  lead  in 
it :  National  Assembly  consenting,  by  dint  of  loyal  Addresses, 
by  management,  by  force  of  Bouille,  to  hear  reason,  and 
follow  thither  I1  Was  it  so,  on  these  terms,  that  Jacobinism 
and  Mirabeau  were  then  to  grapple,  in  their  Hercules-and- 
Typhon  duel ;  Death  inevitable  for  the  one  or  the  other  ? 
The  duel  itself  is  determined  on,  and  sure :  but  on  what 
terms ;  much  more,  with  what  issue,  we  in  vain  guess.  It  is 
vague  darkness  all :  unknown  what  is  to  be ;  unknown  even 
what  has  already  been.  The  giant  Mirabeau  walks  in  dark- 
ness, as  we  said ;  companionless,  on  wild  ways :  what  his 
thoughts  during  these  months  were,  no  record  of  Biographer, 
nor  vague  Ftts  Adoptif^  will  now  ever  disclose. 

To  us,  endeavouring  to  cast  his  horoscope,  it  of  course 
remains  doubly  vague.  There  is  one  Herculean  Man ;  in 
internecine  duel  with  him,  there  is  Monster  after  Monster. 
Emigrant  Noblesse  return,  sword  on  thigh,  vaunting  of  their 
Loyalty  never  sullied ;  descending  from  the  air,  like  Harpy- 
swarms  with  ferocity,  with  obscene  greed.  Earthward  there 
is  the  Typhon  of  Anarchy,  Political,  Religious ;  sprawling 
hundred-headed,  say  with  Twenty-five  million  heads ;  wide  as 
the  area  of  France  ;  fierce  as  Frenzy ;  strong  in  very  Hunger. 
With  these  shall  the  Serpent-queller  do  battle  continually, 
and  expect  no  rest. 

As  for  the  King,  he  as  usual  will  go  wavering  chameleon- 
like  ;  changing  colour  and  purpose  with  the  colour  of  his 
environment ; — good  for  no  Kingly  use.  On  one  royal  person, 
on  the  Queen  only,  can  Mirabeau  perhaps  place  dependence. 
It  is  possible,  the  greatness  of  this  man,  not  unskilled  too  in 
blandishments,  courtiership,  and  graceful  adroitness,  might, 
with  most  legitimate  sorcery,  fascinate  the  volatile  Queen,  and 
fa.  her  to  him.  She  has  courage  for  all  noble  daring ;  an  eye 

1  See  Fih  Adoptif,  vii.  1.  6 :  Dumont,  c.  II,  12,  14. 


138  THE    TUILERIES      [BK.  m.  CH.  VL 

and  a  heart :  the  soul  of  Theresa's  Daughter.  *  Faut-il  done, 
Is  it  fated  then,'  she  passionately  writes  to  her  Brother,  *  that 
I  with  the  blood  I  am  come  of,  with  the  sentiments  I  have, 
must  live  and  die  among  such  mortals  P'1  Alas,  poor  Princess, 
Yes.  *  She  is  the  only  man,  as  Mirabeau  observes,  *  whom  his 
Majesty  has  about  him.'  Of  one  other  man  Mirabeau  is  still 
surer :  of  himself.  There  lie  his  resources ;  sufficient  or 
insufficient. 

Dim  and  great  to  the  eye  of  Prophecy  looks  that  future* 
A  perpetual  life-and-death  battle ;  confusion  from  above  and 
from  below  ; — mere  confused  darkness  for  us ;  with  here  and 
there  some  streak  of  fault  lurid  light.  We  see  a  King  perhaps 
laid  aside ;  not  tonsured, — tonsuring  is  out  of  fashion  now, — 
but  say,  sent  away  anywhither,  with  handsome  annual  allow- 
ance, and  stock  of  smith-tools.  We  see  a  Queen  and  Dauphin, 
Regent  and  Minor ;  a  Queen  *  mounted  on  horseback,'  in  the 
din  of  battles,  with  Moriamur  pro  rege  nostro  \  '  Such  a  day,' 
Mirabeau  writes,  l  may  come.' 

Din  of  battles,  wars  more  than  civil,  confusion  from  above 
and  from  below :  in  such  environment  the  eye  of  Prophecy  sees 
Comte  de  Mirabeau,  like  some  Cardinal  de  Retz,  stormfully 
maintain  himself;  with  head  all-devising,  heart  all-daring,  if 
not  victorious,  yet  unvanquished,  while  life  is  left  him.  The 
specialities  and  issues  of  it,  no  eye  of  Prophecy  can  guess  at : 
it  is  clouds,  we  repeat,  and  tempestuous  night ;  and  in  the 
middle  of  it,  now  visible,  far-darting,  now  labouring  in  eclipse, 
is  Mirabeau  indomitably  struggling  to  be  Cloud- Compeller ! — 
One  can  say  that,  had  Mirabeau  lived,  the  History  of  France 
and  of  the  World  had  been  different.  Further,  that  the  man- 
would  have  needed,  as  few  men  ever  did,  the  whole  compass  of 
that  same  f  Art  of  Daring,  Art  (TOserJ  which  he  so  prized ;. 
and  likewise  that  he,  above  all  men  then  living,  would  have 
practised  and  manifested  it.  Finally,  that  some  substantiality, 
and  no  empty  simulacrum  of  a  formula,  would  have  been  the 
result  realised  by  him :  a  result  you  could  have  loved,  a  result 

1  Fih  Adoptif,  ubi  sacra. 


MARCH  1791]     DEATH    OF    MIRABEAU         139 

you  could  have  hated ;  by  no  likelihood,  a  result  you  could 
only  have  rejected  with  closed  lips,  and  swept  into  quick 
forgetfulness  for  ever.  Had  Mirabeau  lived  one  other  year  ! 


CHAPTER   VII 
DEATH   OF  MIRABEAU 

BUT  Mirabeau  could  not  live  another  year,  any  more  than  he 
could  live  another  thousand  years.  Men's  years  are  numbered, 
and  the  tale  of  Mirabeau's  was  now  complete.  Important  or 
unimportant ;  to  be  mentioned  in  World- History  for  some 
centuries,  or  not  to  be  mentioned  there  beyond  a  day  or  two, 
— it  matters  not  to  peremptory  Fate.  From  amid  the  press 
of  ruddy  busy  Life,  the  Pale  Messenger  beckons  silently  :  wide- 
spreading  interests,  projects,  salvation  of  French  Monarchies, 
what  thing  soever  man  has  on  hand,  he  must  suddenly  quit  it 
all,  and  go.  Wert  thou  saving  French  Monarchies  ;  wert  thou 
blacking  shoes  on  the  Pont  Neuf !  The  most  important  of 
men  cannot  stay ;  did  the  World's  History  depend  on  an  hour, 
that  hour  is  not  to  be  given.  Whereby,  indeed,  it  comes  that 
these  same  w&uld-have-beens  are  mostly  a  vanity ;  and  the 
World's  History  could  never  in  the  least  be  what  it  would,  or 
might,  or  should,  by  any  manner  of  potentiality,  but  simply 
and  altogether  what  it  is. 

The  fierce  wear  and  tear  of  such  an  existence  has  wasted 
out  the  giant  oaken  strength  of  Mirabeau.  A  fret  and  fever 
that  keeps  heart  and  brain  on  fire :  excess  of  effort,  of  excite- 
ment ;  excess  of  all  kinds :  labour  incessant,  almost  beyond 
credibility  !  *  If  I  had  not  lived  with  him,'  says  Dumont,  *  I 
never  should  have  known  what  a  man  can  make  of  one  day ; 
what  things  may  be  placed  within  the  interval  of  twelve  hours. 
A  day  for  this  man  was  more  than  a  week  or  a  month  is  for 
others :  the  mass  of  things  he  guided  on  together  was  pro- 


140  THE    TUILERIES      [BK.  in.  CH.  vn. 

digious ;  from  the  scheming  to  the  executing  not  a  moment 
lost.' — *  Monsieur  le  donate,'  said  his  Secretary  to  him  once, 
*  what  you  require  is  impossible.' — *  Impossible  ! ' — answered 
he,  starting  from  his  chair,  *  Ne  me  ditesjamais  ce  bete  de  mot, 
Never  name  to  me  that  blockhead  of  a  word.' l  And  then  the 
social  repasts;  the  dinner  which  he  gives  as  Commandant  of 
National  Guards,  which  *  cost  five  hundred  pounds ' ;  alas,  and 
'  the  Syrens  of  the  Opera ' ;  and  all  the  ginger  that  is  hot  in 
the  mouth  : — down  what  a  course  is  this  man  hurled  !  Cannot 
Mirabeau  stop ;  cannot  he  fly,  and  save  himself  alive  ?  No  ! 
there  is  a  Nessus-Shirt  on  this  Hercules ;  he  must  storm  and 
burn  there,  without  rest,  till  he  be  consumed.  Human 
strength,  never  so  Herculean,  has  its  measure.  Herald  shadows 
flit  pale  across  the  fire-brain  of  Mirabeau  ;  heralds  of  the  pale 
repose.  While  he  tosses  and  storms,  straining  every  nerve,  in 
that  sea  of  ambition  and  confusion,  there  comes,  sombre  and 
still,  a  monition  that  for  him  the  issue  of  it  will  be  swift 
death. 

In  January  last,  you  might  see  him  as  President  of  the 
Assembly ;  *  his  neck  wrapt  hi  linen  cloths,  at  the  evening 
session ' :  there  was  sick  heat  of  the  blood,  alternate  darkening 
and  flashing  in  the  eyesight ;  he  had  to  apply  leeches,  after 
the  morning  labour,  and  preside  bandaged.  *  At  parting  he 
embraced  me,'  says  Dumont,  'with  an  emotion  I  had  never 
seen  in  him  :  "  I  am  dying,  my  friend ;  dying  as  by  slow  fire ; 
we  shall  perhaps  not  meet  again.  When  I  am  gone,  they 
will  know  what  the  value  of  me  was.  The  miseries  I  have 
held  back  will  burst  from  all  sides  on  France." ' 2  Sickness 
gives  louder  warning;  but  cannot  be  listened  to.  On  the 
27th  day  of  March,  proceeding  towards  the  Assembly,  he  had 
to  seek  rest  and  help  in  Friend  de  Lamarck's,  by  the  road ; 
and  lay  there,  for  an  hour,  half-fainted,  stretched  on  a  sofa. 
To  the  Assembly  nevertheless  he  went,  as  if  in  spite  of 
Destiny  itself;  spoke,  loud  and  eager,  five  several  times; 
•then  quitted  the  Tribune — for  ever.  He  steps  out,  utterly 
1  Dumont,  p.  311.  *  Ibid.  p.  267. 


APRIL  2,1791]     DEATH    OF    MIRABEAU       141 

exhausted,  into  the  Tuileries  Gardens ;  many  people  press 
round  him,  as  usual,  with  applications,  memorials;  he  says 
to  the  Friend  who  was  with  him :  *  Take  me  out  of 
this!' 

And  so,  on  the  last  day  of  March  1791,  endless  anxious 
multitudes  beset  the  Rue  de  la  Chaussee  d'Antin  ;  incessantly 
inquiring :  within  doors  there,  in  that  House  numbered,  in 
our  time,  42,  the  overwearied  giant  has  fallen  down,  to  die.1 
Crowds  of  all  parties  and  kinds ;  of  all  ranks  from  the  King 
to  the  meanest  man  !  The  King  sends  publicly  twice  a-day 
to  inquire ;  privately  besides :  from  the  world  at  large  there 
is  no  end  of  inquiring.  *  A  written  bulletin  is  handed  out 
every  three  hours,'  is  copied  and  circulated ;  in  the  end,  it  is 
printed.  The  People  spontaneously  keep  silence  ;  no  carriage 
shall  enter  with  its  noise :  there  is  crowding  pressure ;  but  the 
Sister  of  Mirabeau  is  reverently  recognised,  and  has  free  way 
made  for  her.  The  People  stand  mute,  heart-stricken  ;  to  all 
it  seems  as  if  a  great  calamity  were  nigh  :  as  if  the  last  man 
of  France,  who  could  have  swayed  these  coming  troubles,  lay 
there  at  hand-grips  with  the  unearthly  Power. 

The  silence  of  a  whole  People,  the  wakeful  toil  of  Cabanis, 
Friend  and  Physician,  skills  not :  on  Saturday  the  second  day 
of  April,  Mirabeau  feels  that  the  last  of  the  Days  has  risen  for 
him  ;  that  on  this  day  he  has  to  depart  and  be  no  more.  His 
death  is  Titanic,  as  his  life  has  been !  Lit  up,  for  the  last 
time,  in  the  glare  of  coming  dissolution,  the  mind  of  the  man 
is  all  glowing  and  burning ;  utters  itself  in  sayings,  such  as 
men  long  remember.  He  longs  to  live,  yet  acquiesces  in 
death,  argues  not  with  the  inexorable.  His  speech  is  wild 
and  wondrous :  unearthly  Phantasms  dancing  now  their  torch - 
dance  round  his  soul ;  the  soul  itself  looking  out,  fire-radiant, 
motionless,  gut  together  for  that  great  hour !  At  times 
comes  a  beam  of  light  from  him  on  the  world  he  is  quitting. 
*  I  carry  in  my  heart  the  death-dirge  of  the  French  Monarchy ; 
the  dead  remains  of  it  will  now  be  the  spoil  of  the  factious.' 

1  Fits  Adoptif,  viii.  420-79. 


142  THE    TUILERIES     [BK.  m.  CH.  vn. 

•Or  again,  when  he  heard  the  cannon  fire,  what  is  characteristic 
too  :  *  Have  we  the  Achilles'  Funeral  already  ? '  So  likewise, 
while  some  friend  is  supporting  him :  '  Yes,  support  that 
head ;  would  I  could  bequeath  it  thee  !  '  For  the  man  dies  as 
he  has  lived ;  self-conscious,  conscious  of  a  world  looking  on. 
He  gazes  forth  on  the  young  Spring,  which  for  him  will  never 
be  Summer.  The  Sun  has  risen ;  he  says,  *  Si  ce  n'est  pas 
la  Dieu,  c'est  du  mains  son  cousin  germain?1 — Death  has 
mastered  the  outworks ;  power  of  speech  is  gone  ;  the  citadel 
of  the  heart  still  holding  out :  the  moribund  giant,  passion- 
ately, by  sign,  demands  paper  and  pen  ;  writes  his  passionate 
demand  for  opium,  to  end  these  agonies.  The  sorrowful 
Doctor  shakes  his  head  :  Dormir,  (  To  sleep,'  writes  the  other, 
passionately  pointing  at  it !  So  dies  a  gigantic  Heathen  and 
Titan ;  stumbling  blindly,  undismayed,  down  to  his  rest.  At 
half-past  eight  in  the  morning,  Doctor  Petit,  standing  at  the 
foot  of  the  bed,  says,  *  II  ne  souffre  plus?  His  suffering  and 
his  working  are  now  ended. 

Even  so,  ye  silent  Patriot  multitudes,  all  ye  men  of  France ; 
this  man  is  rapt  away  from  you.  He  has  fallen  suddenly, 
without  bending  till  he  broke ;  as  a  tower  falls,  smitten  by 
sudden  lightning.  His  word  ye  shall  hear  no  more,  his 
guidance  follow  no  more. — The  multitudes  depart,  heart- 
struck  ;  spread  the  sad  tidings.  How  touching  is  the  loyalty 
of  men  to  their  Sovereign  Man  !  All  theatres,  public  amuse- 
ments close ;  no  joyful  meeting  can  be  held  in  these  nights, 
joy  is  not  for  them :  the  People  break  in  upon  private 
dancing-parties,  and  sullenly  command  that  they  cease.  Of 
such  dancing-parties  apparently  but  two  came  to  light ;  and 
these  also  have  gone  out.  The  gloom  is  universal ;  never  in 
this  City  was  such  sorrow  for  one  death ;  never  since  that  old 
night  when  Louis  xii.  departed,  *  and  the  Crieurs  des  Corps 
went  sounding  their  bells,  and  crying  along  the  streets :  Le 
bon  roi  Louis,  pere  du  peuple,  est  mort,  The  good  King  Louis, 

1  Fils  Adoptif,  viii.  450 ;  Journal  de  la  maladie  et  de  la  mart  de  Mirabeaut 
par  P.  J.  G.  Cabanis  (Paris,  1803). 


APRlL4,i79i]     DEATH    OF    MIRABEAU       143 

Father  of  the  People,  is  dead  ! ' l  King  Mirabeau  is  now  the 
lost  King ;  and  one  may  say  with  little  exaggeration,  all  the 
People  mourns  for  him. 

For  three  days  there  is  low  wide  moan;  weeping  in  the 
National  Assembly  itself.  The  streets  are  all  mournful ; 
orators  mounted  on  the  bornes,  with  large  silent  audience, 
preaching  the  funeral  sermon  of  the  dead.  Let  no  coachman 
whip  fast,  distractively  with  his  rolling  wheels,  or  almost  at 
-all,  through  these  groups  !  His  traces  may  be  cut ;  himself 
and  his  fare,  as  incurable  Aristocrats,  hurled  sulkily  into  the 
kennels.  The  bourne-stone  orators  speak  as  it  is  given  them ; 
the  Sansculottic  People,  with  its  rude  soul,  listens  eager, — as 
men  will  to  any  Sermon,  or  Sermo,  when  it  is  &  spoken  Word 
meaning  a  Thing,  and  not  a  Babblement  meaning  No-thing. 
In  the  Restaurateur's  of  the  Palais-Royal,  the  waiter  remarks, 
*  Fine  weather,  Monsieur ' : — *  Yes,  my  friend/  answers  the 
ancient  Man  of  Letters,  *  very  fine ;  but  Mirabeau  is  dead/ 
Hoarse  rhythmic  threnodies  come  also  from  the  throats  of 
ballad-singers ;  are  sold  on  grey-white  paper  at  a  sou  each.8 
But  of  Portraits,  engraved,  painted,  hewn  and  written;  of 
Eulogies,  Reminiscences,  Biographies,  nay  Vaudevilles^  Dramas 
and  Melodramas,  in  all  Provinces  of  France,  there  will,  through 
these  coming  months,  be  the  due  immeasurable  crop ;  thick 
as  the  leaves  of  Spring.  Nor,  that  a  tincture  of  burlesque 
might  be  in  it,  is  Gobel's  Episcopal  Mandement  wanting; 
goose  Gobel,  who  has  just  been  made  Constitutional  Bishop 
of  Paris.  A  Mandement  wherein  £a  ira  alternates  very 
strangely  with  Nomine  Domini ;  and  you  are,  with  a  grave 
countenance,  invited  to  *  rejoice  at  possessing  in  the  midst  of 
you  a  body  of  Prelates  created  by  Mirabeau,  zealous  followers 
of  his  doctrine,  faithful  imitators  of  his  virtues.' '  So  speaks, 
and  cackles  manifold,  the  Sorrow  of  France ;  wailing  articu- 

1  Renault,  Abrfgf  Chronologique,  p.  429. 

3  Fils  Adoptif,  viii.   1.   10;    Newspapers  and  Excerpts  (in  Hist.  Part.  ix. 
366-402). 

'  Hist.  Parl.  ix.  405. 


144  THE    TUILERIES       [BK.  in.  CH.  vii. 

lately,  inarticulately,  as  it  can,  that  a  Sovereign  Man  is 
snatched  away.  In  the  National  Assembly,  when  difficult 
questions  are  astir,  all  eyes  will  'turn  mechanically  to  the 
place  where  Mirabeau  sat,' — and  Mirabeau  is  absent  now. 

On  the  third  evening  of  the  lamentation,  the  fourth  of 
April,  there  is  solemn  Public  Funeral ;  such  as  deceased 
mortal  seldom  had.  Procession  of  a  league  in  length;  of 
mourners  reckoned  loosely  at  a  hundred  thousand.  All  roofs 
are  thronged  with  on-lookers,  all  windows,  lamp-irons,  branches 
of  trees.  '  Sadness  is  painted  on  every  countenance ;  many 
persons  weep/  There  is  double  hedge  of  National  Guards ; 
there  is  National  Assembly  in  a  body ;  Jacobin  Society,  and 
Societies ;  King's  Ministers,  Municipals,  and  all  Notabilities, 
Patriot  or  Aristocrat.  Bouille'  is  noticeable  there,  '  with  his 
hat  on ' ;  say,  hat  drawn  over  his  brow,  hiding  many  thoughts  ! 
Slow- wending,  in  religious  silence,  the  Procession  of  a  league  in 
length,  under  the  level  sun-rays,  for  it  is  five  o'clock,  moves 
and  marches :  with  its  sable  plumes ;  itself  hi  a  religious 
silence ;  but,  by  fits  with  the  muffled  roll  of  drums,  by  fits 
with  some  long-drawn  wail  of  music,  and  strange  new  clangour 
of  trombones,  and  metallic  dirge- voice ;  amid  the  infinite  hum 
of  men.  In  the  Church  of  Saint-Eustache,  there  is  funeral 
oration  by  Cerutti ;  and  discharge  of  fire-arms,  which  '  brings 
down  pieces  of  the  plaster.'  Thence,  forward  again  to  the 
Church  of  Sainte-Genevieve ;  which  has  been  consecrated,  by 
supreme  decree,  on  the  spur  of  this  time,  into  a  Pantheon  for 
the  Great  Men  of  the  Fatherland,  Aux  Grands  Hommes  la 
Patrie  recormaissante.  Hardly  at  midnight  is  the  business 
done ;  and  Mirabeau  left  in  his  dark  dwelling  :  first  tenant 
of  that  Fatherland's  Pantheon. 

Tenant,  alas,  who  inhabits  but  at  will,  and  shall  be  cast 
out.  For,  in  these  days  of  convulsion  and  disjection,  not  even 
the  dust  of  the  dead  is  permitted  to  rest.  Voltaire's  bones 
are,  by  and  by,  to  be  carried  from  their  stolen  grave  in  the 
Abbey  of  Scellieres,  to  an  eager  stealing  grave,  in  Paris  his 
birth-city :  all  mortals  processioning  and  perorating  there ; 


APRIL4,  179*]     DEATH    OF    MIRABEAU       145 

cars  drawn  by  eight  white  horses,  goadsters  in  classical  costume, 
with  fillets  and  wheat-ears  enough  ; — though  the  weather  is  of 
the  wettest.1  Evangelist  Jean  Jacques  too,  as  is  most  proper, 
must  be  dug  up  from  Ennenonville,  and  processioned,  with 
pomp,  with  sensibility,  to  the  Pantheon  of  the  Fatherland.* 
He  and  others  :  while  again  Mirabeau,  we  say,  is  cast  forth 
from  it,  happily  incapable  of  being  replaced ;  and  rests  now, 
irrecognisable,  reburied  hastily  at  dead  of  night  'in  the  central 
part  of  the  Churchyard  Sainte-Catherine,  in  the  Suburb  Saint- 
Marceau,'  to  be  disturbed  no  further. 

So  blazes  out,  far-seen,  a  Man's  Life,  and  becomes  ashes 
and  a  capnt  mortuum,  in  this  World-Pyre,  which  we  name 
French  Revolution  :  not  the  first  that  consumed  itself  there ; 
nor,  by  thousands  and  many  millions,  the  last !  A  man  who 
'had  swallowed  all  formulas';  who,  in  these  strange  times 
and  circumstances,  felt  called  to  live  Titanically,  and  also  to 
die  so.  As  he,  for  his  part,  had  swallowed  all  formulas,  what 
Formula  is  there,  never  so  comprehensive,  that  will  express 
truly  the  plus  and  the  minus  of  him,  give  us  the  accurate  net- 
result  of  him  ?  There  is  hitherto  none  such.  Moralities  not 
a  few  must  shriek  condemnatory  over  this  Mirabeau ;  the 
Morality  by  which  he  could  be  judged  has  not  yet  got  uttered 
in  the  speech  of  men.  We  will  say  this  of  him  again  :  That 
he  is  a  Reality  and  no  Simulacrum ;  a  living  Son  of  Nature 
our  general  Mother ;  not  a  hollow  Artifice,  and  mechanism  of 
Conventionalities,  son  of  nothing,  brother  to  nothing.  In 
which  little  word,  let  the  earnest  man,  walking  sorrowful  in  a 
world  mostly  of  '  Stuffed  Clothes-suits,1  that  chatter  and  grin 
meaningless  on  him,  quite  ghastly  to  the  earnest  soul, — think 
what  significance  there  is  ! 

Of  men  who,  in  such  sense,  are  alive,  and  see  with  eyes,  the 
number  is  now  not  great :  it  may  be  well,  if  in  this  huge 
French  Revolution  itself,  with  its  all-developing  fury,  we  find 
some  Three.  Mortals  driven  rabid  we  find;  sputtering  the 

1  Monitcur,  du  13  Juillet  1791. 

1  Ibid,  da  18  Septembre  1794.     See  also  da  30  Aout,  etc.  1791. 
VOL.  n.  I 


146  THE    TUILERIES     [BK.  m.  CH.  vn. 

acridest  logic;  baring  their  breast  to  the  battle-hail,  their 
neck  to  the  guillotine  : — of  whom  it  is  so  painful  to  say  that 
they  too  are  still,  in  good  part,  manufactured  Formalities, 
not  Facts  but  Hearsays  ! 

Honour  to  the  strong  man,  in  these  ages,  who  has  shaken 
himself  loose  of  shams,  and  is  something.  For  in  the  way  of 
being  worthy r,  the  first  condition  surely  is  that  one  be.  Let 
Cant  cease,  at  all  risks  and  at  all  costs :  till  Cant  cease, 
nothing  else  can  begin.  Of  human  Criminals,  in  these 
centuries,  writes  the  Moralist,  I  find  but  one  unforgivable : 
the  Quack.  *  Hateful  to  God,'  as  divine  Dante  sings, '  and  to 
the  Enemies  of  God, 

'  A  D>o  (rpiacente  ed  a'  nemici  tuil' 

But  whoever  will,  with  sympathy,  which  is  the  first  essen- 
tial towards  insight,  look  at  this  questionable  Mirabeau,  may 
find  that  there  lay  verily  in  him,  as  the  basis  of  all,  a  Sincerity, 
a  great  free  Earnestness ;  nay  call  it  Honesty,  for  the  man 
did  before  all  things  see,  with  that  clear  flashing  vision,  into 
what  was,  into  what  existed  as  fact ;  and  did,  with  his  wild 
heart,  follow  that  and  no  other.  Whereby  on  what  ways 
soever  he  travels  and  struggles,  often  enough  falling,  he  is 
still  a  brother  man.  Hate  him  not ;  thou  canst  not  hate 
him !  Shining  through  such  soil  and  tarnish,  and  now 
victorious  effulgent,  and  oftenest  struggling  eclipsed,  the  light 
of  genius  itself  is  in  this  man ;  which  was  never  yet  base  and 
hateful ;  but  at  worst  was  lamentable,  lovable  with  pity. 
They  say  that  he  was  ambitious,  that  he  wanted  to  be 
Minister.  It  is  most  true.  And  was  he  not  simply  the  one 
man  in  France  who  could  have  done  any  good  as  Minister  ? 
Not  vanity  alone,  not  pride  alone ;  far  from  that !  Wild 
burstings  of  affection  were  in  this  great  heart ;  of  fierce  light- 
ning, and  soft  dew  of  pity.  So  sunk  bemired  in  wretchedest 
defacements,  it  may  be  said  of  him,  like  the  Magdalen  of  old, 
that  he  loved  much :  his  Father,  the  harshest  of  old  crabbed 
men,  he  loved  with  warmth,  with  veneration. 


APRIL4.I79I]     DEATH    OF    MIRABEAU       147 

Be  it  that  his  falls  and  follies  are  manifold, — as  himself 
often  lamented  even  with  tears.1  Alas,  is  not  the  Life  of 
every  such  man  already  a  poetic  Tragedy ;  made  up  '  of  Fate 
and  of  one's  own  Deservings/  of  Schicksal  wnd  eigene  Schidd ; 
full  of  the  elements  of  Pity  and  Fear  ?  This  brother  man,  if 
not  Epic  for  us,  is  Tragic;  if  not  great,  is  large,  large  in 
his  qualities,  world-large  in  his  destinies.  Whom  other  men, 
recognising  him  as  such,  may,  through  long  times,  remember, 
and  draw  nigh  to  examine  and  consider :  these,  in  their 
several  dialects,  will  say  of  him  and  sing  of  him, — till  the 
right  thing  be  said ;  and  so  the  Formula  that  can  judge  him 
be  no  longer  an  undiscovered  one. 

Here  then  the  wild  Gabriel  Honore  drops  from  the  tissue 
of  our  History ;  not  without  a  tragic  farewell.  He  is  gone  : 
the  flower  of  the  wild  Riquetti  or  Arrighetti  kindred ;  which 
seems  as  if  in  him,  with  one  last  effort,  it  had  done  its  best, 
and  then  expired,  or  sunk  down  to  the  undistinguished  leveL 
Crabbed  old  Marquis  Mirabeau,  the  Friend  of  Men,  sleeps 
sound.  The  Bailli  Mirabeau,  worthy  Uncle,  will  soon  die 
forlorn,  alone.  Barrel-Mirabeau,  already  gone  across  the 
Rhine,  his  Regiment  of  Emigrants  will  drive  nigh  desperate. 
*  Barrel-Mirabeau,'  says  a  biographer  of  his,  *  went  indignantly 
across  the  Rhine,  and  drilled  Emigrant  Regiments.  But  as 
he  sat  one  morning  in  his  tent,  sour  of  stomach  doubtless  and 
of  heart,  meditating  in  Tartarean  humour  on  the  turn  things 
took,  a  certain  Captain  or  Subaltern  demanded  admittance  on 
business.  Such  Captain  is  refused ;  he  again  demands,  with 
refusal ;  and  then  again  ;  till  Colonel  Viscount  Barrel-Mira- 
beau, blazing  up  into  a  mere  burning  brandy-barrel,  clutches 
his  sword,  and  tumbles  out  on  this  canaille  of  an  intruder, 
— alas,  on  the  canaille  of  an  intruder's  sword-point,  who  had 
drawn  with  swift  dexterity ;  and  dies,  and  the  Newspapers  name 
it  apoplexy  and  alarming  accident.''  So  die  the  Mirabeaus. 

New  Mirabeaus  one  hears  not  of :  the  wild  kindred,  as  we 
1  Damont,  p.  287. 


148  THE    TUILERIES     IBK. In-  CH-  VIL 

said,  is  gone  out  with  this  its  greatest.  As  families  and  kin- 
dreds sometimes  do ;  producing,  after  long  ages  of  unnoted 
notability,  some  living  quintessence  of  all  the  qualities  they 
had,  to  flame  forth  as  a  man  world-noted ;  after  whom  they  rest 
as  if  exhausted  ;  the  sceptre  passing  to  others.  The  chosen 
Last  of  the  Mirabeaus  is  gone ;  the  chosen  man  of  France  is 
gone.  It  was  he  who  shook  old  France  from  its  basis ;  and,, 
as  if  with  his  single  hand,  has  held  it  toppling  there,  still 
unfallen.  What  things  depended  on  that  one  man !  He  is 
as  a  ship  suddenly  shivered  on  sunk  rocks :  much  swims  on 
the  waste  waters,  far  from  help. 


BOOK    FOURTH 

VARENNES 


CHAPTER  I 

EASTER  AT   SAINT-CLOUD 

THE  French  Monarchy  may  now  therefore  be  considered  as,  in 
all  human  probability,  lost ;  as  struggling  henceforth  hi  blind- 
ness as  well  as  weakness,  the  last  light  of  reasonable  guidance 
having  gone  out.  What  remains  of  resources  their  poor 
Majesties  will  waste  still  further,  in  uncertain  loitering  and 
wavering.  Mirabeau  himself  had  to  complain  that  they  only 
gave  him  half  confidence,  and  always  had  some  plan  within  his 
plan.  Had  they  fled  frankly  with  him  to  Rouen  or  any- 
whither,  long  ago  !  They  may  fly  now  with  chance  immeasur- 
ably lessened  ;  which  will  go  on  lessening  towards  absolute 
zero.  Decide,  O  Queen  ;  poor  Louis  can  decide  nothing  : 
execute  this  Flight-project,  or  at  least  abandon  it  Corre- 
spondence with  Bouille  there  has  been  enough ;  what  profits 
consulting  and  hypothesis,  while  all  around  is  in  fierce  activity 
of  practice  ?  The  Rustic  sits  waiting  till  the  river  run  dry : 
alas,  with  you  it  is  not  a  common  river,  but  a  Nile  Inunda- 
tion ;  snows  melting  in  the  unseen  mountains ;  till  all,  and 
you  where  you  sit,  be  submerged. 

Many  things  invite  to  flight.  The  voice  of  Journals 
invites ;  Royalist  Journals  proudly  hinting  it  as  a  threat, 
Patriot  Journals  rabidly  denouncing  it  as  a  terror.  Mother 
'Society,  waxing  more  and  more  emphatic,  invites; — so  emphatic 
that,  as  was  prophesied,  Lafayette  and  your  limited  Patriots 


150  VARENNES  [BK.  iv.  CH.  I, 

have  ere  long  to  branch  off  from  her,  and  form  themselves  into 
Feuillans ;  with  infinite  public  controversy ;  the  victory  in 
which,  doubtful  though  it  look,  will  remain  with  the  unlimited 
Mother.  Moreover,  ever  since  the  Day  of  Poniards,  we  have 
seen  unlimited  Patriotism  openly  equipping  itself  with  arms. 
Citizens  denied  *  activity,1  which  is  facetiously  made  to  signify 
a  certain  weight  of  purse,  cannot  buy  blue  uniforms,  and  be 
Guardsmen ;  but  man  is  greater  than  blue  cloth ;  man  can 
fight,  if  need  be,  in  multiform  cloth,  or  even  almost  without 
cloth, — as  Sansculotte.  So  pikes  continue  to  be  hammered, 
whether  those  Dirks  of  improved  structure  with  barbs  be 
'meant  for  the  West-India  market,'  or  not  meant.  Men 
beat,  the  wrong  way,  their  ploughshares  into  swords.  Is 
there  not  what  we  may  call  an  '  Austrian  Committee,"1  Caniite 
Autrichien,  sitting  daily  and  nightly  in  the  Tuileries  ? 
Patriotism,  by  vision  and  suspicion,  knows  it  too  well !  If 
the  King  fly,  will  there  not  be  Aristocrat- Austrian  invasion ; 
butchery ;  replacement  of  Feudalism ;  wars  more  than  civil  ? 
The  hearts  of  men  are  saddened  and  maddened. 

Dissident  Priests  likewise  give  trouble  enough.  Expelled 
from  their  Parish  Churches,  where  Constitutional  Priests, 
elected  by  the  Public,  have  replaced  them,  these  unhappy 
persons  resort  to  Convents  of  Nuns,  or  other  such  receptacles  ; 
and  there,  on  Sabbath,  collecting  assemblages  of  Anti-Consti- 
tutional individuals,  who  have  grown  devout  all  on  a  sudden,1 
they  worship  or  pretend  to  worship  in  their  strait-laced  con- 
tumacious manner ;  to  the  scandal  of  Patriotism.  Dissident 
Priests,  passing  along  with  their  sacred  wafer  for  the  dying, 
seem  wishful  to  be  massacred  hi  the  streets ;  wherein  Patriotism 
will  not  gratify  them.  Slighter  palm  of  martyrdom,  however, 
shall  not  be  denied  :  martyrdom  not  of  massacre,  yet  of 
fustigation.  At  the  refractory  places  of  worship,  Patriot  men 
appear ;  Patriot  women  with  strong  hazel  wands,  which  they 
apply.  Shut  thy  eyes,  O  Reader ;  see  not  this  misery,  peculiar 
to  these  later  times, — of  martyrdom  without  sincerity,  with 
1  Toulongeon,  i.  262. 


APRIL  1791]     EASTEll    AT    SAINT-CLOUD          151 

only  cant  and  contumacy !  A  dead  Catholic  Church  is  not 
allowed  to  lie  dead ;  no,  it  is  galvanised  into  the  detestablest 
death-life  ;  whereat  Humanity,  we  say,  shuts  its  eyes.  For 
the  Patriot  women  take  their  hazel  wands,  and  fustigate, 
amid  laughter  of  bystanders,  with  alacrity  :  broad  bottom  oJ 
Priests  ;  alas,  Nuns  too,  reversed  and  cotillons  retrousses  !  The 
National  Guard  does  what  it  can  :  Municipality  *  invokes  the 
Principles  of  Toleration ' ;  grants  Dissident  worshippers  the 
Church  of  the  Theatins  :  promising  protection.  But  it  is  to 
no  purpose  :  at  the  door  of  that  Theatins  Church  appears  a 
Placard,  and  suspended  atop,  like  Plebeian  Consular  fasces — a. 
Bundle  of  Rods  !  The  Principles  of  Toleration  must  do  the 
best  they  may  :  but  no  Dissident  man  shall  worship  con- 
tumaciously ;  there  is  a  Plebiscitum  to  that  effect ;  which, 
though  unspoken,  is  like  the  laws  of  the  Medes  and  Persians. 
Dissident  contumacious  Priests  ought  not  to  be  harboured, 
even  in  private,  by  any  man :  the  Club  of  the  Cordeliers 
openly  denounces  Majesty  himself  as  doing  it.1 

Many  things  invite  to  flight :  but  probably  this  thing  above 
all  others,  that  it  has  become  impossible  !  On  the  15th  of 
April,  notice  is  given  that  his  Majesty,  who  has  suffered  much 
from  catarrh  lately,  will  enjoy  the  Spring  weather,  for  a  few 
days,  at  Saint-Cloud.  Out  at  Saint-Cloud?  Wishing  to 
celebrate  his  Easter,  his  Paques  or  Pasch,  there  ;  with  re- 
fractory Anti-Constitutional  Dissidents  ? — Wishing  rather  to 
make  off  for  Compiegne,  and  thence  to  the  Frontiers  ?  As 
were,  in  good  sooth,  perhaps  feasible,  or  would  once  have  been  ; 
nothing  but  some  two  chasseurs  attending  you ;  chasseurs 
easily  corrupted !  It  is  a  pleasant  possibility,  execute  it  or 
not.  Men  say  there  are  thirty  thousand  Chevaliers  of  the 
Poniard  lurking  in  the  woods  there :  lurking  in  the  woods, 
and  thirty  thousand, — for  the  human  Imagination  is  not 
fettered.  But  now,  how  easily  might  these,  dashing  out  on 
Lafayette,  snatch  off  the  Hereditary  Representative ;  and  roll 
away  with  him,  after  the  manner  of  a  whirl-blast,  whither 

1  Newspapers  of  April  and  June  1791  (in  Hist.  Part.  ix.  449 ;  x.  217). 


152  VARENNES  [BK.  iv.  CH.  I. 

they  listed ! — Enough,  it  were  well  the  King  did  not  go. 
Lafayette  is  forewarned  and  forearmed :  but,  indeed,  is  the 
risk  his  only ;  or  his  and  all  France's  ? 

Monday  the  eighteenth  of  April  is  come ;  the  Easter 
Journey  to  Saint-Cloud  shall  take  effect.  National  Guard 
has  got  its  orders ;  a  First  Division,  as  Advanced  Guard,  has 
even  marched,  and  probably  arrived.  His  Majesty's  Maison- 
bouche,  they  say,  is  all  busy  stewing  and  frying  at  Saint-Cloud ; 
the  King's  dinner  not  far  from  ready  there.  About  one 
o'clock,  the  Royal  Carriage,  with  its  eight  royal  blacks,  shoots 
stately  into  the  Place  du  Carrousel ;  draws  up  to  receive  its 
royal  burden.  But  hark  !  from  the  neighbouring  Church  of 
Saint-Roch,  the  tocsin  begins  ding-dong-ing.  Is  the  King 
stolen,  then ;  is  he  going ;  gone  ?  Multitudes  of  persons 
crowd  the  Carrousel :  the  Royal  Carriage  still  stands  there, — 
and,  by  Heaven's  strength,  shall  stand ' 

Lafayette  comes  up,  with  aides-de-camp  and  oratory ;  per- 
vading the  groups :  *  Taisez-vous?  answer  the  groups ;  *  the 
King  shall  not  go.'  Monsieur  appears,  at  an  upper  window  : 
ten  thousand  voices  bray  and  shriek,  *  Nous  ne  voulons  pas  que 
le  Roi  parted  Their  Majesties  have  mounted.  Crack  go  the 
whips ;  but  twenty  Patriot  arms  have  seized  each  of  the  eight 
bridles :  there  is  rearing,  rocking,  vociferation ;  not  the 
smallest  headway.  In  vain  does  Lafayette  fret,  indignant; 
and  perorate  and  strive :  Patriots  in  the  passion  of  terror 
bellow  round  the  Royal  Carriage ;  it  is  one  bellowing  sea  of 
Patriot  terror  run  frantic.  Will  Royalty  fly  off  towards 
Austria ;  like  a  lit  rocket,  towards  endless  Conflagration  of 
Civil  War  ?  Stop  it,  ye  Patriots,  in  the  name  of  Heaven ! 
Rude  voices  passionately  apostrophise  Royalty  itself.  Usher 
Campan,  and  other  the  like  official  persons,  pressing  forward 
with  help  or  advice,  are  clutched  by  the  sashes,  and  hurled 
and  whirled,  in  a  confused  perilous  manner;  so  that  her 
Majesty  has  to  plead  passionately  from  the  carriage- window. 

Order  cannot  be  heard,  cannot  be  followed ;  National 
Guards  know  not  how  to  act.  Centre  Grenadiers,  of  the 


APRIL  1791]     EASTER    AT   SAINT-CLOUD          153 

Observatoire  Battalion,  are  there;  not  on  duty;  alas,  in 
quasi-mutiny  ;  speaking  rude  disobedient  words  ;  threatening 
the  mounted  Guards  with  sharp  shot  if  they  hurt  the  people. 
Lafayette  mounts  and  dismounts ;  runs  haranguing,  panting  ; 
on  the  verge  of  despair.  For  an  hour  and  three-quarters ; 
*  seven  quarters  of  an  hour,'  by  the  Tuileries  Clock  !  Desperate 
Lafayette  will  open  a  passage,  were  it  by  the  cannon's  mouth, 
if  his  Majesty  will  order.  Their  Majesties,  counselled  to  it 
by  Royalist  friends,  by  Patriot  foes,  dismount ;  and  retire 
in,  with  heavy  indignant  heart ;  giving  up  the  enterprise. 
Maison-bouche  may  eat  that  cooked  dinner  themselves  :  his 
Majesty  shall  not  see  Saint-Cloud  this  day, — nor  any  day.1 

The  pathetic  fable  of  imprisonment  in  one's  own  Palace  has 
become  a  sad  fact,  then  ?  Majesty  complains  to  Assembly  ; 
Municipality  deliberates,  proposes  to  petition  or  address ; 
Sections  respond  with  sullen  brevity  of  negation.  Lafayette 
flings  down  his  Commission  ;  appears  in  civic  pepper-and-salt 
frock ;  and  cannot  be  flattered  back  again ;  not  in  less  than 
three  days  ;  and  by  unheard-of  entreaty ;  National  Guards 
kneeling  to  him,  and  declaring  that  it  is  not  sycophancy,  that 
they  are  free  men  kneeling  here  to  the  Statue  of  Liberty.  For 
the  rest,  those  Centre  Grenadiers  of  the  Observatoire  are  dis- 
banded,— yet  indeed  are  reinlisted,  all  but  fourteen,  under  a 
new  name,  and  with  new  quarters.  The  King  must  keep  his 
Easter  in  Paris ;  meditating  much  on  this  singular  posture  of 
things ;  but  as  good  as  determined  now  to  fly  from  it,  desire 
Jbeing  whetted  by  difficulty. 


CHAPTER    II 

EASTER   AT    PARIS 

FOE  above  a  year,  ever  since  March  1790,  it  would  seem, 
there  has  hovered  a  project  of  Flight  before  the  royal  mind ; 
1  Deux  Amis,  vi.  c.  L  ;  Hut.  Parl.  UL  407-14. 


154.  VARENNES  [BK.  iv.  CH.  IL. 

and  ever  and  anon  has  been  condensing  itself  into  something 
like  a  purpose;  but  this  or  the  other  difficulty  always  vaporised 
it  again.  It  seems  so  full  of  risks,  perhaps  of  civil  war  itself  ; 
above  all,  it  cannot  be  done  without  effort.  Somnolent  lazi- 
ness will  not  serve :  to  fly,  if  not  in  a  leather  vache,  one  must 
verily  stir  oneself.  Better  to  adopt  that  Constitution  of 
theirs ;  execute  it  so  as  to  show  all  men  that  it  is  inexecut- 
able  ?  Better  or  not  so  good :  surely  it  is  easier.  To  all 
difficulties  you  need  only  say,  There  is  a  lion  in  the  path, 
behold  your  Constitution  will  not  act !  For  a  somnolent 
person  it  requires  no  effort  to  counterfeit  death, — as  Dame  de 
Stael  and  Friends  of  Liberty  can  see  the  King's  Government 
long  doing,  faisant  la  mart. 

Nay  now,  when  desire  whetted  by  difficulty  has  brought  the 
matter  to  a  head,  and  the  royal  mind  no  longer  halts  between 
two,  what  can  come  of  it  ?  Grant  that  poor  Louis  were  safe 
with  Bouille,  what,  on  the  whole,  could  he  look  for  there  ? 
Exasperated  Tickets  of  Entry  answer :  Much,  all.  But  cold 
Reason  answers  :  Little,  almost  nothing.  Is  not  loyalty  a  law 
of  Nature  ?  ask  the  Tickets  of  Entry.  Is  not  love  of  your 
King,  and  even  death  for  him,  the  glory  of  all  Frenchmen, 
— except  these  few  Democrats  ?  Let  Democrat  Constitution- 
builders  see  what  they  will  do  without  their  Keystone ;  and 
France  rend  its  hair,  having  lost  the  Hereditary  Representative ! 

Thus  will  King  Louis  fly ;  one  sees  not  reasonably  towards 
what.  As  a  maltreated  Boy,  shall  we  say,  who,  having  a 
Stepmother,  rushes  sulky  into  the  wide  world ;  and  will 
wring  the  paternal  heart  ? — Poor  Louis  escapes  from  known 
unsupportable  evils,  to  an  unknown  mixture  of  good  and  evil, 
coloured  by  Hope.  He  goes,  as  Rabelais  did  when  dying,  to 
seek  a  great  May-be :  je  vais  chercher  un  grand  Peut-£tre ! 
As  not  only  the  sulky  Boy  but  the  wise  grown  Man  is  obliged 
to  do,  so  often,  in  emergencies. 

For  the  rest,  there  is  still  no  lack  of  stimulants,  and  step- 
dame  maltreatments,  to  keep  one's  resolution  at  the  due  pitch. 
Factious  disturbances  cease  not :  as  indeed  how  can  they, 


MAY  4,1791]       EASTER    AT    PARIS  155 

unless  authoritatively  conjured,  in  a  Revolt  which  is  by  nature 
bottomless? — If  the  ceasing  of  faction  be  the  price  of  the 
King's  somnolence,  he  may  awake  when  he  will  and  take  wing. 

Remark,  in  any  case,  what  somersets  and  contortions  a  dead 
Catholicism  is  making, — skilfully  galvanised :  hideous,  and 
even  piteous,  to  behold  !  Jurant  and  Dissident,  with  their 
shaved  crowns,  argue  frothing  everywhere ;  or  are  ceasing  to 
argue,  and  stripping  for  battle.  In  Paris  was  scourging  while 
need  continued  :  contrariwise,  in  the  Morbihan  of  Brittany, 
without  scourging,  armed  Peasants  are  up,  roused  by  pulpit- 
drum,  they  know  not  why.  General  Dumouriez,  who  has  got 
missioned  thitherward,  finds  all  in  sour  heat  of  darkness ; 
finds  also  that  explanation  and  conciliation  will  still  do  much.1 

But  again,  consider  this :  that  his  Holiness,  Pius  Sixth,  has 
seen  good  to  excommunicate  Bishop  Talleyrand !  Surely,  we 
will  say  then,  considering  it,  there  is  no  living  or  dead  Church 
in  the  Earth  that  has  not  the  indubitablest  right  to  excom- 
municate Talleyrand.  Pope  Pius  has  right  and  might,  in 
his  way.  But  truly  so  likewise  has  Father  Adam,  ci-devant 
Marquis  Saint-Huruge,  hi  his  way.  Behold,  therefore,  on  the 
Fourth  of  May,  in  the  Palais  Royal,  a  mixed  loud-sounding 
multitude ;  in  the  middle  of  whom,  Father  Adam,  bull-voiced 
Saint-Huruge,  in  white  hat,  towers  visible  and  audible.  With 
him,  it  is  said,  walks  Journalist  Gorsas,  walk  many  others  of 
the  washed  sort ;  for  no  authority  will  interfere.  Pius  Sixth, 
with  his  plush  and  tiara,  and  power  of  the  Keys,  they  bear 
aloft :  of  natural  size, — made  of  lath  and  combustible  gum. 
Royou,  the  King's  Friend,  is  borne  too  in  effigy ;  with  a  pile 
of  Newpaper  King's- Friends^  condemned  Numbers  of  the  Ami- 
du-Roi ;  fit  fuel  of  the  sacrifice.  Speeches  are  spoken ;  a 
judgment  is  held,  a  doom  proclaimed,  audible  hi  bull- voice, 
towards  the  four  winds.  And  thus,  amid  great  shouting,  the 
holocaust  is  consummated,  under  the  summer  sky ;  and  our 
lath-and-gum  Holiness,  with  the  attendant  victims,  mounts  up 
in  flame,  and  sinks  down  in  ashes ;  a  decomposed  Pope  :  and 
1  Deux  Amis,  v.  410-21  ;  Dumouriex,  ii.  c.  5. 


156  VARENNES  [BK.  iv.  CH.  HI. 

right  or  might,  among  all  the  parties,  has  better  or  worse 
accomplished  itself,  as  it  could.1  But,  on  the  whole,  reckon- 
ing from  Martin  Luther  in  the  Market-place  of  Wittenberg 
to  Marquis  Saint-Huruge  hi  this  Palais  Royal  of  Paris,  what 
a  journey  have  we  gone ;  into  what  strange  territories  has  it 
carried  us  !  No  Authority  can  now  interfere.  Nay  Religion 
herself,  mourning  for  such  things,  may  after  all  ask,  What 
have  /  to  do  with  them  ? 

In  such  extraordinary  manner  does  dead  Catholicism  somer- 
set and  caper,  skilfully  galvanised.  For,  does  the  reader 
inquire  into  the  subject-matter  of  controversy  in  this  case; 
what  the  difference  between  Orthodoxy  or  My-doxy  and 
Heterodoxy  or  Thy-doxy  might  here  be  ?  My-doxy  is,  that 
an  august  National  Assembly  can  equalise  the  extent  of 
Bishopricks ;  that  an  equalised  Bishop,  his  Creed  and  Formu- 
laries being  left  quite  as  they  were,  can  swear  Fidelity  to 
King,  Law  and  Nation,  and  so  become  a  Constitutional 
Bishop.  Thy-doxy,  if  thou  be  Dissident,  is  that  he  cannot ; 
but  that  he  must  become  an  accursed  thing.  Human  ill- 
nature  needs  but  some  Homoiousian  iota,  or  even  the  pretence 
of  one ;  and  will  flow  copiously  through  the  eye  of  a  needle 
thus  always  must  mortals  go  jargoning  and  fuming, 

And,  like  the  ancient  Stoics  in  their  porches, 
.  With  fierce  dispute  maintain  their  churches. 

This  Auto-da-fe  of  Saint-Huruge<>s  was  on  the  Fourth  of  May 
1791.  Royalty  sees  it ;  but  says  nothing. 


CHAPTER    III 

COUNT   FERSEN 

ROYALTY,  in  fact,  should,  by  this  time,  be  far  on  with  its 
preparations.     Unhappily  much  preparation  is  needful.    Could 
1  Hist.  Parl.  x.  99-102. 


MAY-JUNE,  1791]     COUNT    FERSEN  157 

a  Hereditary  Representative  be  carried  in  leather  vache,  how 
easy  were  it !  But  it  is  not  so. 

New  Clothes  are  needed ;  as  usual,  in  all  Epic  trans- 
actions, were  it  in  the  grimmest  iron  ages ;  consider  '  Queen 
Chrimhilde,  with  her  sixty  sempstresses,'*  in  that  iron  Nibe- 
Iwngen  Song\  No  Queen  can  stir  without  new  clothes. 
Therefore,  now,  Dame  Cum  pan  whisks  assiduous  to  this 
mantua-maker  and  to  that :  and  there  is  clipping  of  frocks 
and  gowns,  upper  clothes  and  under,  great  and  small ;  such  a 
clipping  and  sewing  as — might  have  been  dispensed  with. 
Moreover,  her  Majesty  cannot  go  a  step  anywhither  without 
her  Necessaire ;  dear  Necessaire,  of  inlaid  ivory  and  rosewood  ; 
cunningly  devised  ;  which  holds  perfumes,  toilette-implements, 
infinite  small  queenlike  furnitures :  necessary  to  terrestrial  life. 
Not  without  a  cost  of  some  five  hundred  louis,  of  much 
precious  time,  and  difficult  hoodwinking  which  does  not  blind, 
can  this  same  Necessary  of  life  be  forwarded  by  the  Flanders 
Carriers, — never  to  get  to  hand.1  All  which,  you  would  say, 
augurs  ill  for  the  prospering  of  the  enterprise.  But  the 
whims  of  women  and  queens  must  be  humoured. 

Bouille,  on  his  side,  is  making  a  fortified  Camp  at  Mont* 
medi ;  gathering  Royal- Allemand,  and  all  manner  of  other 
German  and  true  French  Troops  thither,  *  to  watch  the 
Austrians.'  His  Majesty  will  not  cross  the  frontiers,  unless 
on  compulsion.  Neither  shall  the  Emigrants  be  much 
employed,  hateful  as  they  are  to  all  people.8  Nor  shall  old 
war-god  Broglie  have  any  hand  in  the  business ;  but  solely 
our  brave  Bouille;  to  whom,  on  the  day  of  meeting,  a 
Marshal's  Baton  shall  be  delivered,  by  a  rescued  King,  amid 
the  shouting  of  all  the  troops.  In  the  meanwhile,  Paris 
being  so  suspicious,  were  it  not  perhaps  good  to  write  your 
Foreign  Ambassadors  an  ostensible  Constitutional  Letter; 
desiring  all  Kings  and  men  to  take  heed  that  King  Louis  loves 
the  Constitution,  that  he  has  voluntarily  sworn,  and  does 
again  swear,  to  maintain  the  same,  and  will  reckon  those  his 

1  Cam  pan,  ii.  c.  18.  *  Bouill6,  Mimtiru,  ii.  c.  ia 


158  VARENNES  [BK.  iv.  CH.  in. 

enemies  who  affect  to  say  otherwise  ?  Such  a  Constitutional 
Circular  is  despatched  by  Couriers,  is  communicated  con- 
fidentially to  the  Assembly,  and  printed  in  ail  Newspapers ; 
with  the  finest  effect.1  Simulation  aud  dissimulation  mingle 
extensively  in  human  affairs. 

We  observe,  however,  that  Count  Fersen  is  often  using  his 
Ticket  of  Entry ;  which  surely  he  has  clear  right  to  do.  A 
gallant  Soldier  and  Swede,  devoted  to  this  fair  Queen ; — as 
indeed  the  Highest  Swede  now  is.  Has  not  King  Gustav, 
famed  fiery  Chevalier  du  Nord,  sworn  himself,  by  the  old  laws 
of  chivalry,  her  Knight  ?  He  will  descend  on  fire- wings,  of 
Swedish  musketry,  and  deliver  her  from  these  foul  dragons, — 
if,  alas,  the  assassin's  pistol  intervene  not ! 

But,  in  fact,  Count  Fersen  does  seem  a  likely  young  soldier, 
of  alert  decisive  ways  :  he  circulates  widely,  seen,  unseen  ;  and 
has  business  on  hand.  Also  Colonel  the  Duke  de  Choiseul, 
nephew  of  Choiseul  the  great,  of  Choiseul  the  now  deceased ; 
he  and  Engineer  Goguelat  are  passing  and  repassing  between 
Metz  and  the  Tuileries :  and  Letters  go  in  cipher, — one  ot 
them,  a  most  important  one,  hard  to  ^cipher ;  Fersen  having 
ciphered  it  in  haste.2  As  for  Duke  de  Villequier,  he  is  gone 
ever  since  the  Day  of  Poniards  ;  but  his  Apartment  is  useful 
for  her  Majesty. 

On  the  other  side,  poor  Commandant  Gouvion,  watching  at 
the  Tuileries,  second  in  National  command,  sees  several  things 
hard  to  interpret.  It  is  the  same  Gouvion  who  sat,  long 
months  ago,  at  the  Townhall,  gazing  helpless  into  that 
Insurrection  of  Women ;  motionless,  as  the  brave  stabled 
steed  when  conflagration  rises,  till  Usher  Maillard  snatched 
his  drum.  Sincerer  Patriot  there  is  not ;  but  many  a  shiftier. 
He,  if  Dame  Campan  gossip  credibly,  is  paying  some  similitude 
of  love-court  to  a  certain  false  Chambermaid  of  the  Palace, 
who  betrays  much  to  him :  the  Necessaire,  the  clothes,  the 

1  Moniteur,  Stance  du  23  Avril  1791. 

1  Choiseul,  Relation  du  Dttart  de  Louis  XVI  (Paris,  1822),  p.  39. 


JUNE  20-21,  1791]     COUNT    FERSEN  159 

packing  of  jewels,1 — could  he  understand  it  when  betrayed. 
Helpless  Gouvion  gazes  with  sincere  glassy  eyes  into  it ;  stirs 
up  his  sentries  to  vigilance;  walks  restless  to  and  fro;  and 
hopes  the  best. 

But,  on  the  whole,  one  finds  that,  in  the  second  week  of 
June,  Colonel  de  Choiseul  is  privately  in  Paris ;  having  come 
*  to  see  his  children.'  Also  that  Fersen  has  got  a  stupendous 
new  Coach  built,  of  the  kind  named  Berline;  done  by  the 
first  artists ;  according  to  a  model :  they  bring  it  home  to 
him,  in  ChoiseuTs  presence ;  the  two  friends  take  a  proof-drive 
in  it,  along  the  streets ;  in  meditative  mood ;  then  send  it  up 
to  '  Madame  Sullivan's,  in  the  Rue  de  Clichy,'  far  North,  to 
wait  there  till  wanted.  Apparently  a  certain  Russian 
Baroness  de  Korff,  with  Waiting-woman,  Valet,  and  two 
Children,  will  travel  homewards  with  some  state :  hi  whom 
these  young  military  gentlemen  take  interest?  A  Passport 
has  been  procured  for  her ;  and  much  assistance  shown,  with 
Coachbuilders  and  suchlike  ; — so  helpful -polite  are  young 
military  men.  Fersen  has  likewise  purchased  a  Chaise  fit  for 
two,  at  least  for  two  waiting-maids ;  further,  certain  necessary 
horses :  one  would  say,  he  is  himself  quitting  France,  not 
without  outlay?  We  observe  finally  that  their  Majesties. 
Heaven  willing,  will  assist  at  Carpua-Christi  Day  this  blessed 
Summer  Solstice,  in  Assumption  Church,  here  at  Paris,  to  the 
joy  of  all  the  world.  For  which  same  day,  moreover,  brave 
lk>uille,  at  Metz,  as  we  find,  has  invited  a  party  of  friends  to 
dinner ;  but  indeed  is  gone  from  home,  in  the  interim  over  to 
MontmecH 

These  are  of  the  Phenomena,  or  visual  Appearances,  of  this 
wide-working  terrestrial  world  :  which  truly  is  all  phenomenal, 
what  they  call  spectral ;  and  never  rests  at  any  moment ;  one 
never  at  any  moment  can  know  why. 

On  Monday  night,  the  Twentieth  of  June  1791,  about 
eleven  o'clock,  there  is  many  a  hackney-coach,  and  glass-coach 

1  Cam  pan,  i.  141. 


160  VARENNES  [BK.  iv.  CH.  m, 

(carrosse  de  remise),  still  rumbling,  or  at  rest,  on  the  streets  of 
Paris.  But  of  all  glass-coaches,  we  recommend  this  to  thee, 
O  reader,  which  stands  drawn  up  in  the  Rue  de  1'Echelle, 
hard  by  the  Carrousel  and  outgate  of  the  Tuileries ;  in  the 
Rue  de  1'Echelle  that  then  was;  'opposite  Ronsin  the  saddler's 
door,'  as  if  waiting  for  a  fare  there  !  Not  long  does  it  wait  : 
a  hooded  Dame,  with  two  hooded  Children  has  issued  from 
Villequier's  door,  where  no  sentry  walks,  into  the  Tuileries- 
Court-of-Princes ;  into  the  Carrousel ;  into  the  Rue  de 
1'Echelle ;  where  the  Glass-coachman  readily  admits  them ; 
and  again  waits.  Not  long ;  another  Dame,  likewise  hooded 
or  shrouded,  leaning  on  a  servant,  issues  in  the  same  manner ; 
bids  the  servant  good-night ;  and  is,  in  the  same  manner,  by 
the  Glass-coachman,  cheerfully  admitted.  Whither  go  so 
many  Dames  ?  Tis  his  Majesty's  Couchee,  Majesty  just  gone 
to  bed,  and  all  the  Palace-world  is  retiring  home.  But  the 
Glass-coachman  still  waits ;  his  fare  seemingly  incomplete. 

By  and  by,  we  note  a  thickset  Individual,  in  round  hat  and 
peruke,  arm-and-arm  with  some  servant,  seemingly  of  the 
Runner  or  Courier  sort;  he  also  issues  through  Villequier's 
door;  starts  a  shoebuckle  as  he  passes  one  of  the  sentries, 
stoops  down  to  clasp  it  again;  is  however,  by  the  Glass- 
coachman,  still  more  cheerfully  admitted.  And  now,  is  his- 
fare  complete  ?  Not  yet ;  the  Glass-coachman  still  waits. — 
Alas !  and  the  false  Chambermaid  has  warned  Gouvion  that 
she  thinks  the  Royal  Family  will  fly  this  very  night;  and 
Gouvion,  distrusting  his  own  glazed  eyes,  has  sent  express  for 
Lafayette ;  and  Lafayette's  Carriage,  flaring  with  lights,  rolls 
this  moment  through  the  inner  Arch  of  the  Carrousel, — 
where  a  Lady  shaded  in  broad  gypsy-hat,  and  leaning  on 
the  arm  of  a  servant,  also  of  the  Runner  or  Courier  sort, 
stands  aside  to  let  it  pass,  and  has  even  the  whim  to  touch  a 
spoke  of  it  with  her  Iodine, — light  little  magic  rod  which  she 
calls  badine,  such  as  the  Beautiful  then  wore.  The  flare  of 
Lafayette's  Carriage  rolls  past :  all  is  found  quiet  in  the 
Court-of-Princes ;  sentries  at  their  post;  Majesties'  Apart- 


JUNE  20-21,  1791]     COUNT    FERSEN  161 

merits  closed  in  smooth  rest.  Your  false  Chambermaid  must 
have  been  mistaken?  Watch  thou,  Gouvion,  with  Argus* 
vigilance ;  for,  of  a  truth,  treachery  is  within  these  walls. 

But  where  is  the  Lady  that  stood  aside  in  gypsy-hat, 
and  touched  the  wheel-spoke  with  her  badine?  O  Header, 
that  Lady  that  touched  the  wheel-spoke  was  the  Queen  of 
France  !  She  has  issued  safe  through  that  inner  Arch,  into  the 
Carrousel  itself;  but  not  into  the  Rue  de  TEchelle.  Flurried 
by  the  rattle  and  rencounter,  she  took  the  right  hand  not  the 
left ;  neither  she  nor  her  Courier  knows  Paris ;  he  indeed  is 
no  Courier,  but  a  loyal  stupid  ci-devant  Bodyguard  disguised 
as  one.  They  are  off,  quite  wrong,  over  the  Pont  Royal  and 
River ;  roaming  disconsolate  in  the  Rue  du  Bac ;  far  from 
the  Glass-coachman,  who  still  waits.  Waits,  with  flutter  of 
heart ;  with  thoughts — which  he  must  button  close  up,  under 
his  jarvie-surtout ! 

Midnight  clangs  from  all  the  City-steeples ;  one  precious 
hour  has  been  spent  so  ;  most  mortals  are  asleep.  The  Glass- 
coachman  waits  ;  and  in  what  mood  !  A  brother  jarvie  drives 
up,  enters  into  conversation ;  is  answered  cheerfully  in  jarvie- 
dialect :  the  brothers  of  the  whip  exchange  a  pinch  of  snuff ; l 
decline  drinking  together;  and  part  with  good-night  Be 
the  Heavens  blest !  here  at  length  is  the  Queen-lady,  in  gypsy- 
hat  ;  safe  after  perils  ;  who  has  had  to  inquire  her  way.  She 
too  is  admitted ;  her  Courier  jumps  aloft,  as  the  other,  who 
is  also  a  disguised  Bodyguard,  has  done  :  and  now,  O  Glass- 
coachman  of  a  thousand, — Count  Fersen,  for  the  Reader  sees 
it  is  thou, — drive  ! 

Dust  shall  not  stick  to  the  hoofs  of  Fersen  :  crack  !  crack  ! 
the  Glass-coach  rattles,  and  every  soul  breathes  lighter.  But 
is  Fersen  on  the  right  road  ?  North-eastward,  to  the  Barrier 
of  Saint-Martin  and  Metz  Highway,  thither  were  we  bound : 
and  lo,  he  drives  right  Northward  !  The  royal  Individual,  in 
round  hat  and  peruke,  sits  astonished ;  but  right  or  wrong, 
there  is  no  remedy.  Crack,  crack,  we  go  incessant,  through 

1  Weber,  ii.  340-2  ;  Choiseul,  pp.  44-56. 
VOL.  H.  L 


162  VARENNES  [BK.  rv.  CH.  m. 

the  slumbering  City.  Seldom,  since  Paris  rose  out  of  mud, 
or  the  Longhaired  Bangs  went  in  Bullock-carts,  was  there 
such  a  drive.  Mortals  on  each  hand  of  you,  close  by,  stretched 
out  horizontal,  dormant ;  and  we  alive  and  quaking  !  Crack, 
crack,  through  the  Rue  de  Grammont ;  across  the  Boulevard ; 
up  the  Rue  de  la  Chaussee  d'Antin, — these  windows,  all 
silent,  of  Number  42,  were  Mirabeau's.  Towards  the  Barrier 
not  of  Saint-Martin,  but  of  Clichy  on  the  utmost  North ! 
Patience,  ye  royal  Individuals ;  Fersen  understands  what  he  is 
about.  Passing  up  the  Rue  de  Clichy,  he  alights  for  one 
moment  at  Madame  Sullivan's :  *  Did  Count  Fersen's  Coach- 
man get  the  Baroness  de  KorflTs  new  Berline?' — 'Gone  with  it 
an  hour-and-half  ago,'  grumbles  responsive  the  drowsy  Porter. 
— '  (Test  bien?  Yes,  it  is  well ; — though  had  not  such  hour- 
and-half  been  lost,  it  were  still  better.  Forth  therefore,  O 
Fersen,  fast,  by  the  Barrier  de  Clichy ;  then  Eastward  along 
the  Outer  Boulevard,  what  horses  and  whipcord  can  do ! 

Thus  Fersen  drives,  through  the  ambrosial  night.  Sleeping 
Paris  is  now  all  on  the  right-hand  of  him ;  silent  except  for 
some  snoring  hum :  and  now  he  is  Eastward  as  far  as  the 
Barrier  de  Saint-Martin ;  looking  earnestly  for  Baroness  de 
KorfPs  Berline.  This  Heaven's  Berline  he  at  length  does 
descry,  drawn  up  with  its  six  horses,  his  own  German  Coach- 
man waiting  on  the  box.  Right,  thou  good  German :  now 
haste,  whither  thou  knowest ! — And  as  for  us  of  the  Glass- 
coach,  haste  too,  O  haste ;  much  time  is  already  lost !  The 
august  Glass-coach  fare,  six  Insides,  hastily  packs  itself  into 
the  new  Berline ;  two  Bodyguard  Couriers  behind.  The 
Glass-coach  itself  is  turned  adrift,  its  head  towards  the  City ; 
to  wander  whither  it  lists, — and  be  found  next  morning 
tumbled  in  a  ditch.  But  Fersen  is  on  the  new  box,  with  its 
brave  new  hammer-cloths ;  flourishing  his  whip ;  he  bolts 
forward  towards  Bondy.  There  a  third  and  final  Bodyguard 
Courier  of  ours  ought  surely  to  be,  with  post-horses  ready- 
ordered.  There  likewise  ought  that  purchased  Chaise,  with 
the  two  Waiting-maids  and  their  bandboxes,  to  be ;  whom 


JUNE  20-21,  1 790     COUNT    FERSEN  163 

also  her  Majesty  could  not  travel  without.     Swift,  thou  deft 
Fersen,  and  may  the  Heavens  turn  it  well ! 

Once  more,  by  Heaven's  blessing,  it  is  all  well.  Here  is 
the  sleeping  Hamlet  of  Bondy ;  Chaise  with  Waiting- women  ; 
horses  all  ready,  and  postillions  with  their  churn-boots,  impa- 
tient in  the  dewy  dawn.  Brief  harnessing  done,  the  postillions 
with  then-  churn-boots  vault  into  the  saddles ;  brandish 
circularly  their  little  noisy  whips.  Fersen,  under  his  jarvie- 
surtout,  bends  in  lowly  silent  reverence  of  adieu ;  royal  hands 
wave  speechless  inexpressible  response ;  Baroness  de  KorflTs 
Berline,  with  the  Royalty  of  France,  bounds  off :  for  ever,  as  it 
proved.  Deft  Fersen  dashes  obliquely  Northward,  through  the 
country,  towards  Bougret;  gains  Bougret,  finds  his  German 
Coachman  and  chariot  waiting  there ;  cracks  off,  and  drives 
undiscovered  into  unknown  space.  A  deft  active  man,  we 
say ;  what  he  undertook  to  do  is  nimbly  and  successfully  done. 

And  so  the  Royalty  of  France  is  actually  fled  ?  This 
precious  night,  the  shortest  of  the  year,  it  flies,  and  drives ! 
Baroness  de  Korff"  is,  at  bottom,  Dame  de  Tourzel,  Governess 
of  the  Royal  Children  :  she  who  came  hooded  with  the  two 
hooded  little  ones ;  little  Dauphin ;  little  Madame  Royale, 
known  long  afterwards  as  Duchesse  d'Angouleme.  Baroness 
de  KorfTs  Waiting-maid  is  the  Queen  in  gypsy-hat  The 
royal  Individual  in  round  hat  and  peruke,  he  is  Valet  for  the 
time  being.  That  other  hooded  Dame,  styled  Travelling- 
companion,  is  kind  Sister  Elizabeth ;  she  had  sworn,  long 
since,  when  the  Insurrection  of  Women  was,  that  only  death 
should  part  her  and  them.  And  so  they  rush  there,  not  too 
impetuously,  through  the  Wood  of  Bondy  : — over  a  Rubicon 
in  their  own  and  France's  History. 

Great;  though  the  future  is  all  vague!  If  we  reach 
Bouilte  ?  If  we  do  not  reach  him  ?  O  Louis  !  and  this  all 
round  thee  is  the  great  slumbering  Earth  (and  overhead,  the 
great  watchful  Heaven) ;  the  slumbering  Wood  of  Bondy, — 
where  Longhaired  Childeric  Donothing  was  struck  through 


VARENNES  [BK.  iv.  CH.  iv, 

with  iron ;  *  not  unreasonably,  in  a  world  like  ours.  These 
peaked  stone-towers  are  Raincy ;  towers  of  wicked  D'Orleans. 
All  slumbers  save  the  multiplex  rustle  of  our  new  Berline. 
Loose-skirted  scarecrow  of  an  Herb-merchant,  with  his  ass 
and  early  greens,  toilsomely  plodding,  seems  the  only  creature 
we  meet.  But  right  ahead  the  great  Northeast  sends  up 
evermore  his  grey  brindled  dawn  :  from  dewy  branch,  birds 
here  and  there,  with  short  deep  warble,  salute  the  coming 
Sun.  Stars  fade  out,  and  Galaxies ;  Street-lamps  of  the  City 
of  God.  The  Universe,  O  my  brothers,  is  flinging  wide  its 
portals  for  the  Levee  of  the  GREAT  HIGH  KING.  Thou,  poor 
King  Louis,  farest  nevertheless,  as  mortals  do,  towards  Orient 
lands  of  Hope ;  and  the  Tuileries  with  its  Levees,  and  France 
and  the  Earth  itself,  is  but  a  larger  kind  of  doghutch, — 
occasionally  going  rabid. 


CHAPTER    IV 

ATTITUDE 

BUT  in  Paris,  at  six  in  the  morning;  when  some  Patriot 
Deputy,  warned  by  a  billet,  awoke  Lafayette,  and  they  went 
to  the  Tuileries  ? — Imagination  may  paint,  but  words  cannot, 
the  surprise  of  Lafayette ;  or  with  what  bewilderment  helpless 
Gouvion  rolled  glassy  Argus'  eyes,  discerning  now  that  his 
false  Chambermaid  had  told  true  ! 

However,  it  is  to  be  recorded  that  Paris,  thanks  to  an 
august  National  Assembly,  did,  on  this  seeming  doomsday, 
surpass  itself.  Never,  according  to  Historian  eye-witnesses, 
was  there  seen  such  an  *  imposing  attitude.' 2  Sections  *  all  in 
permanence ' ;  our  Townhall  too,  having  first,  about  ten 
o'clock,  fired  three  solemn  alarm-cannons :  above  all,  our 
National  Assembly  !  National  Assembly,  likewise  permanent 

1  Renault,  Abrigi  Chronologiqut,  p.  36. 

1  Deux  Amis,  vi.  67-178;  Toulongeon,  ii.  1-38;  Camilla,  Prudhomme  and 
Editors  (in  Hist.  Parl.  x.  240-4). 


JUNE  21, 1791]  ATTITUDE  165 

decides  what  is  needful ;  with  unanimous  consent,  for  the  Coti 
Droit  sits  dumb,  afraid  of  the  Lanterne.  Decides  with  a  calm 
promptitude,  which  rises  towards  the  sublime.  One  must 
needs  vote,  for  the  thing  is  self-evident,  that  his  Majesty  has 
been  abducted,  or  spirited  away,  *  enlevc^  by  some  person  or 
persons  unknown  :  in  which  case,  what  will  the  Constitution 
have  us  do  ?  Let  us  return  to  first  principles,  as  we  always 
say  :  *  revenons  aux  prindpes.'1 

By  first  or  by  second  principles,  much  is  promptly  decided : 
Ministers  are  sent  for,  instructed  how  to  continue  their  func- 
tions ;  Lafayette  is  examined  ;  and  Gouvion,  who  gives  a  most 
helpless  account,  the  best  he  can.  Letters  are  found  written  : 
one  Letter,  of  immense  magnitude ;  all  in  his  Majesty's  hand, 
and  evidently  of  his  Majesty's  own  composition  ;  addressed  to 
the  National  Assembly.  It  details  with  earnestness,  with  a 
child-like  simplicity,  what  woes  his  Majesty  has  suffered. 
Woes  great  and  small :  A  Necker  seen  applauded,  a  Majesty 
not;  then  insurrection;  want  of  due  furniture  in  Tuileries 
Palace ;  want  of  due  cash  in  Civil  List ;  general  want  of  cash, 
of  furniture  and  order ;  anarchy  everywhere  :  Deficit  never 
yet,  in  the  smallest,  *  choked  or  comble ' : — wherefore,  in  brief, 
his  Majesty  has  retired  towards  a  place  of  Liberty;  and, 
leaving  Sanctions,  Federation,  and  what  Oaths  there  may  be, 
to  shift  for  themselves,  does  now  refer — to  what,  thinks  an 
august  Assembly  ?  To  that  *  Declaration  of  the  Twenty- 
third  of  June,'  with  its  *  Seul  ttfera,  He  alone  will  make  his 
People  happy/  As>  if  that  were  not  buried,  deep  enough, 
under  two  irrevocable  Twelvemonths,  and  the  wreck  and 
rubbish  of  a  whole  Feudal  World  !  This  strange  autograph 
Letter  the  National  Assembly  decides  on  printing ;  on  trans- 
mitting to  the  Eighty-three  Departments,  with  exegetic  com- 
mentary, short  but  pithy.  Commissioners  also  shall  go  forth 
on  all  sides ;  the  People  be  exhorted ;  the  Annies  be  increased  ; 
care  taken  that  the  Commonweal  suffer  no  damage. — And 
now,  with  a  sublime  air  of  calmness,  nay  of  indifference,  we 
*  pass  to  the  order  of  the  day ' ! 


166  VARENNES  [BK.  iv.  CH.  iv. 

By  such  sublime  calmness,  the  terror  of  the  People  is  calmed. 
These  gleaming  Pike-forests,  which  bristled  fateful  in  the  early 
sun,  disappear  again ;  the  far-sounding  Street-orators  cease, 
or  spout  milder.  We  are  to  have  a  civil  war ;  let  us  have  it 
•  then.  The  King  is  gone ;  but  National  Assembly,  but  France 
and  we  remain.  The  People  also  takes  a  great  attitude ;  the 
People  also  is  calm ;  motionless  as  a  couchant  lion.  With 
but  a  few  broolings,  some  waggings  of  the  tail ;  to  show  what 
it  will  do  !  Cazales,  for  instance,  was  beset  by  street-groups, 
and  cries  of  Lanterne ;  but  National  Patrols  easily  delivered 
him.  Likewise  all  King's  effigies  and  statues,  at  least  stucco 
ones,  get  abolished.  Even  King's  names  ;  the  word  Roi  fades 
suddenly  out  of  all  shop-signs ;  the  Royal  Bengal  Tiger  itself, 
on  the  Boulevards,  becomes  the  National  Bengal  one,  Tigre 
National.1 

How  great  is  a  calm  couchant  People !  On  the  morrow, 
men  will  say  to  one  another  :  '  We  have  no  King,  yet  we  slept 
sound  enough.'  On  the  morrow,  fervent  Achille  de  Chatelet, 
and  Thomas  Paine  the  rebellious  Needleman,  shall  have  the 
walls  of  Paris  profusely  plastered  with  their  Placard  ;  announc- 
ing that  there  must  be  a  Republic? — Need  we  add,  that 
Lafayette  too,  though  at  first  menaced  by  Pikes,  has  taken  a 
great  attitude,  or  indeed  the  greatest  of  all  ?  Scouts  and 
Aides-de-camp  fly  forth,  vague,  in  quest  and  pursuit ;  young 
Romo2iif  towards  Valenciennes,  though  with  small  hope. 

Thus  Paris ;  sublimely  calmed,  in  its  bereavement.  But 
from  the  Messageries  Royales,  in  all  Mail-bags,  radiates  forth 
far-darting  the  electric  news :  Our  Hereditary  Representative  is 
flown.  Laugh,  black  Royalists:  yet  be  it  in  your  sleeve  only; 
lest  Patriotism  notice,  and  waxing  frantic,  lower  the  Lanterne ! 
In  Paris  alone  is  a  sublime  National  Assembly  with  its  calm- 
ness ;  truly,  other  places  must  take  it  as  they  can  :  with  open 
mouth  and  eyes ;  with  panic  cackling,  with  wrath,  with  con- 
jecture. How  each  one  of  those  dull  leathern  Diligences,  with 
its  leathern  bag  and  *  The  King  is  fled,'  furrows  up  smooth 
1  Walpoliana.  «  Dumont,  c.  16. 


JUNE  21,  1791]  ATTITUDE  167 

France  as  it  goes ;  through  town  and  hamlet,  ruffles  the 
smooth  public  mind  into  quivering  agitation  of  death-terror ; 
then  lumbers  on,  as  if  nothing  had  happened  !  Along  all 
highways ;  towards  the  utmost  borders ;  till  all  France  is 
ruffled, — roughened  up  (metaphorically  speaking)  into  one 
enormous,  desperate-minded,  red  guggling  Turkey  Cock ! 

For  example,  it  is  under  cloud  of  night  that  the  leathern 
Monster  reaches  Nantes ;  deep  sunk  in  sleep.  The  word 
spoken  rouses  all  Patriot  men  :  General  Dumouriez,  enveloped 
in  roquelaures,  has  to  descend  from  his  bedroom ;  finds  the  street 
covered  with  *  four  or  five  thousand  citizens  in  their  shirts."1 1 
Here  and  there  a  faint  farthing  rushlight,  hastily  kindled;  and 
so  many  swart-featured  haggard  faces  with  nightcaps  pushed 
back ;  and  the  more  or  less  flowing  drapery  of  nightshirts : 
open-mouthed  till  the  General  say  his  word  !  And  overhead, 
as  always,  the  Great  Bear  is  turning  so  quiet  round  Bootes ; 
steady,  indifferent  as  the  leathern  Diligence  itself.  Take 
comfort,  ye  men  of  Nantes ;  Bootes  and  the  steady  Bear  are 
turning ;  ancient  Atlantic  still  sends  his  brine,  loud-billowing, 
up  your  Loire  stream ;  brandy  shall  be  hot  in  the  stomach  : 
this  is  not  the  Last  of  the  Days,  but  one  before  the  Last. — The 
fools !  If  they  knew  what  was  doing,  in  these  very  instants, 
also  by  candle-light,  in  the  far  Northeast ! 

Perhaps,  we  may  say,  the  most  terrified  man  in  Paris  or 
France  is — who  thinks  the  reader  ? — seagreen  Robespierre. 
Double  paleness,  with  the  shadow  of  gibbets  and  halters,  over- 
casts the  seagreen  features :  it  is  too  clear  to  him  that  there  is 
to  be  *  a  Saint-Bartholomew  of  Patriots,1  that  in  four-and- 
twenty  hours  he  will  not  be  in  life.  These  horrid  anticipations 
of  the  soul  he  is  heard  uttering  at  Potion's:  by  a  notable 
witness.  By  Madame  Roland,  namely;  her  whom  we  saw, 
last  year,  radiant  at  the  Lyons  Federation.  These  four  months, 
the  Rolands  have  been  in  Paris ;  arranging  with  Assembly 
Committees  the  Municipal  affairs  of  Lyons,  affairs  all  sunk  in 
debt ; — communing,  the  while,  as  was  most  natural,  with  the 
1  Dumouriez,  AIimoirtt%  ii.  109. 


168  VARENNES  [BK.  iv.  CH.  v. 

best  Patriots  to  be  found  here,  with  our  Brissots,  Petions, 
Buzots,  Robespierres  :  who  were  wont  to  come  to  us,  says  the 
fair  Hostess,  four  evenings  in  the  week.  They,  running  about, 
busier  than  ever  this  day,  would  fain  have  comforted  the  sea- 
green  man ;  spake  of  Achille  de  Chatelet's  Placard ;  of  a 
Journal  to  be  called  The  Republican;  of  preparing  men's  minds 
for  a  Republic.  *  A  Republic  ? '  said  the  Seagreen,  with  one 
of  his  dry  husky  wwsportful  laughs,  *  What  is  that  ? '  *  O 
seagreen  Incorruptible,  thou  shalt  see  I 


CHAPTER    V 

THE  NEW  BERLINS 

Bur  scouts,  all  this  while,  and  aides-de-camp,  have  flown 
forth  faster  than  the  leathern  Diligences.  Young  Romceuf, 
as  we  said,  was  off  early  towards  Valenciennes :  distracted 
Villagers  seize  him,  as  a  traitor  with  a  finger  of  his  own  in  the 
plot ;  drag  him  back  to  the  Townhall ;  to  the  National 
Assembly,  which  speedily  grants  a  new  passport.  Nay  now, 
that  same  scarecrow  of  an  Herb-merchant  with  his  ass  has 
bethought  him  of  the  grand  new  Berline  seen  in  the  Wood  of 
Bondy ;  and  delivered  evidence  of  it : 2  Romoeuf,  furnished 
with  new  passport,  is  sent  forth  with  double  speed  on  a  hope- 
fuller  track ;  by  Bondy,  Claye  and  Chalons,  towards  Metz,  to 
track  the  new  Berline ;  and  gallops  a  franc  etrier. 

Miserable  new  Berline  !  Why  could  not  Royalty  go  in  some 
old  Berline  similar  to  that  of  other  men  ?  Flying  for  life,  one 
does  not  stickle  about  his  vehicle.  Monsieur,  hi  a  common- 
place travelling-carriage  is  off  Northwards ;  Madame,  his 
Princess,  in  another,  with  variation  of  route :  they  cross  one 
another  while  changing  horses,  without  look  of  recognition ; 
and  reach  Flanders,  no  man  questioning  them.  Precisely  in 

1  Madame  Roland,  ii.  70. 

1  Afoniteur,  etc.  (in  Hist.  Parl.  x.  244-253). 


JUNE  2i,  1791]     THE    NEW    BERLINE  169 

the  same  manner,  beautiful  Princess  de  Lamballe  set  off,  about 
the  same  hour ;  and  will  reach  England  safe : — would  she 
had  continued  there !  The  beautiful,  the  good,  but  the  un- 
fortunate ;  reserved  for  a  frightful  end  ! 

All  runs  along,  unmolested,  speedy,  except  only  the  new 
Berline.  Huge  leathern  vehicle  : — huge  Argosy,  let  us  say, 
or  Acapulco  ship ;  with  its  heavy  stern-boat  of  Chaise-and- 
pair ;  with  its  three  yellow  Pilot-boats  of  mounted  Bodyguard 
Couriers,  rocking  aimless  round  it  and  ahead  of  it,  to  bewilder, 
not  to  guide !  It  lumbers  along,  lurchingly  with  stress,  at 
a  snail's  pace ;  noted  of  all  the  world.  The  Bodyguard 
Couriers,  in  their  yellow  liveries,  go  prancing  and  clattering  ; 
loyal  but  stupid ;  unacquainted  with  all  things.  Stoppages 
occur ;  and  breakages,  to  be  repaired  at  Etoges.  King  Louis 
too  will  dismount,  will  walk  up  hills,  and  enjoy  the  blessed 
sunshine : — with  eleven  horses  and  double  drink-money,  and 
all  furtherances  of  Nature  and  Art,  it  will  be  found  that 
Royalty,  flying  for  life,  accomplishes  Sixty-nine  miles  in 
Twenty-two  incessant  hours.  Slow  Royalty !  And  yet  not 
a  minute  of  these  hours  but  is  precious  :  on  minutes  hang  the 
destinies  of  Royalty  now. 

Readers,  therefore,  can  judge  in  what  humour  Duke  de 
Choiseul  might  stand  waiting,  in  the  village  of  Pont-de-Somme- 
velle,  some  leagues  beyond  Chalons,  hour  after  hour,  now  when 
the  day  bends  visibly  westward.  Choiseul  drove  out  of  Paris, 
in  all  privity,  ten  hours  before  their  Majesties"  fixed  time ;  his 
Hussars,  led  by  Engineer  Goguelat,  are  here  duly,  come  *  to 
escort  a  Treasure  that  is  expected  "* :  but,  hour  after  hour,  is 
no  Baroness  de  KorfTs  Berline.  Indeed,  over  all  that  North- 
east Region,  on  the  skirts  of  Champagne  and  of  Lorraine, 
where  the  great  Road  runs,  the  agitation  is  considerable. 
For  all  along,  from  this  Pont-de-Sommevelle  Northeastward 
as  far  as  Montmedi,  at  Post-villages  and  Towns,  escorts  of 
Hussars  and  Dragoons  do  lounge  waiting ;  a  train  or  chain 
of  Military  Escorts ;  at  the  Montmedi  end  of  it  our  brave 


170     ^  VARENNES  [BK.  iv.  CH.  v. 

Bouille  :  an  electric  thunder-chain  ;  which  the  invisible  Bouille, 
like  a  Father  Jove,  holds  in  his  hand — for  wise  purposes  ! 
Brave  Bouille  has  done  what  man  could ;  has  spread  out  his 
electric  thunder-chain  of  Military  Escorts,  onwards  to  the 
threshold  of  Chalons  :  it  waits  but  for  the  new  Korff  Berline ; 
to  receive  it,  escort  it,  and,  if  need  be,  bear  it  off  in  whirlwind 
of  military  fire.  They  lie  and  lounge  there,  we  say,  these 
fierce  Troopers ;  from  Montmedi  and  Stenai,  through  Cler- 
mont,  Sainte-Menehould  to  utmost  Pont-de-Sommevelle,  in  all 
Post-villages ;  for  the  route  shall  avoid  Verdun  and  great 
Towns  :  they  loiter  impatient,  *  till  the  Treasure  arrive.' 

Judge  what  a  day  this  is  for  brave  Bouille :  perhaps  the 
first  day  of  a  new  glorious  life  ;  surely  the  last  day  of  the  old  ! 
Also,  and  indeed  still  more,  what  a  day,  beautiful  and  terrible, 
for  your  young  full-blooded  Captains  :  your  Dandoins,  Comte 
de  Damas,  Duke  de  Choiseul,  Engineer  Goguelat,  and  the 
like ;  intrusted  with  the  secret ! — Alas,  the  day  bends  ever 
more  westward ;  and  no  Korff  Berline  comes  to  sight.  It  is 
four  hours  beyond  the  time,  and  still  no  Berline.  In  all 
Village-streets,  Royalist  Captains  go  lounging,  looking  often 
Paris- ward ;  with  face  of  unconcern,  with  heart  full  of  black 
care  :  rigorous  Quartermasters  can  hardly  keep  the  private 
dragoons  from  cafes  and  dramshops.1  Dawn  on  our  bewilder- 
ment, thou  new  Berline ;  dawn  on  us,  thou  Sun-Chariot  of  a 
new  Berline,  with  the  destinies  of  France  ! 

It  was  of  his  Majesty's  ordering,  this  military  array  of 
Escorts :  a  thing  solacing  the  Royal  imagination  with  a  look 
of  security  and  rescue ;  yet,  in  reality,  creating  only  alarm, 
and,  where  there  was  otherwise  no  danger,  danger  without 
end.  For  each  Patriot,  in  these  Post-villages,  asks  naturally  : 
This  clatter  of  cavalry,  and  marching  and  lounging  of  troops, 
what  means  it  ?  To  escort  a  Treasure  ?  Why  escort,  when 
no  Patriot  will  steal  from  the  Nation ;  or  where  is  your 
Treasure  ? — There  has  been  such  marching  and  counter- 

1  Declaration  du  Sieur  La  Cache  du  Rlgiment  Royal-Dragons  (in  Choiseul, 
pp.  125-39). 


JUNE2I,  1791]     THE    NEW    BERLINE  171 

marching  :  for  it  is  another  fatality,  that  certain  of  these 
Military  Escorts  came  out  so  early  as  yesterday ;  the  Nine- 
teenth not  the  Twentieth  of  the  month  being  the  day  first 
appointed ;  which  her  Majesty,  for  some  necessity  or  other, 
saw  good  to  alter.  And  now  consider  the  suspicious  nature 
of  Patriotism  ;  suspicious,  above  all,  of  Bouille  the  Aristocrat ; 
and  how  the  sour  doubting  humour  has  had  leave  to  accumu- 
late and  exacerbate  for  four-and-twenty  hours  ! 

At  Pont-de-Sommevelle,  these  Forty  foreign  Hussars  of 
Goguelat  and  Duke  Choiseul  are  becoming  an  unspeakable 
mystery  to  all  men.  They  lounged  long  enough,  already,  at 
Sainte-Menehould ;  lounged  and  loitered  till  our  National 
Volunteers  there,  all  risen  into  hot  wrath  of  doubt,  *  demanded 
three  hundred  fusils  of  their  Townhall,'  and  got  them.  At 
which  same  moment  too,  as  it  chanced,  our  Captain  Dandoins 
was  just  coming  in,  from  Clermont  with  his  troop,  at  the 
other  end  of  the  Village.  A  fresh  troop  ;  alarming  enough  ; 
though  happily  they  are  only  Dragoons  and  French !  So 
that  Goguelat  with  his  Hussars  had  to  ride,  and  even  to  do 
it  fast ;  till  here  at  Pont-de-Sommevelle,  where  Choiseul  lay 
waiting,  he  found  resting-place.  Resting-place  as  on  burning 
marie.  For  the  rumour  of  him  flies  abroad  ;  and  men  run  to 
and  fro  in  fright  and  anger :  Chalons  sends  forth  exploratory 
pickets  of  National  Volunteers  towards  this  hand ;  which 
meet  exploratory  pickets,  coming  from  Sainte-Menehould,  on 
that.  What  is  it,  ye  whiskered  Hussars,  men  of  foreign 
guttural  speech ;  in  the  name  of  Heaven,  what  is  it  that 
brings  you  ?  A  Treasure  ? — exploratory  pickets  shake  their 
heads.  The  hungry  Peasants,  however,  know  too  well  what 
Treasure  it  is ;  Military  seizure  for  rents,  feudalities ;  which 
no  Bailiff  could  make  us  pay !  This  they  know ; — and  set 
to  jingling  their  Parish-bell  by  way  of  tocsin;  with  rapid 
effect !  Choiseul  and  Goguelat,  if  the  whole  country  is  not 
to 'take  fire,  must  needs,  be  there  Berline,  be  there  no  Berline, 
saddle  and  ride. 

They  mount ;  and  this  parish  tocsin  happily  ceases.     They 


172  VARENNES  [BK- IV-  CH.  VL 

ride  slowly  Eastward;  towards  Sainte-Menehould;  still  hoping 
the  Sun-Chariot  of  a  Berline  may  overtake  them.  Ah  me, 
no  Berline  !  And  near  now  is  that  Sainte-Menehould  ;  which 
expelled  us  in  the  morning,  with  its  *  three  hundred  National 
fusils ' ;  which  looks,  belike,  not  too  lovingly  on  Captain 
Dandoins  and  his  fresh  Dragoons,  though  only  French ; — 
which,  hi  a  word,  one  dare  not  enter  the  second  time,  under 
pain  of  explosion !  With  rather  heavy  heart,  our  Hussar 
Party  strikes  off,  to  the  left ;  through  by-ways,  through  path- 
less hills  and  woods,  they,  avoiding  Sainte-Menehould  and  all 
places  which  have  seen  them  heretofore,  will  make  direct  for 
the  distant  Village  of  Varennes.  It  is  probable  they  will 
have  a  rough  evening  ride. 

This  first  military  post,  therefore,  in  the  long  thunder- 
chain,  has  gone  off  with  no  effect ;  or  with  worse,  and  your 
chain  threatens  to  entangle  itself ! — The  Great  Road,  however, 
is  got  hushed  again  into  a  kind  of  quietude,  though  one  of 
the  wakefulest.  Indolent  Dragoons  cannot,  by  any  Quarter- 
master, be  kept  altogether  from  the  dramshop;  where  Patriots 
drink,  and  will  even  treat,  eager  enough  for  news.  Captains, 
in  a  state  near  distraction,  beat  the  dusty  highway,  with  a 
face  of  indifference ;  and  no  Sun-Chariot  appears.  Why 
lingers  it?  Incredible,  that  with  eleven  horses,  and  such 
yellow  Couriers  and  furtherances,  its  rate  should  be  under  the 
weightiest  dray-rate,  some  three  miles  an  hour !  Alas,  one 
knows  not  whether  it  ever  even  got  out  of  Paris ; — and  yet 
also  one  knows  not  whether,  this  very  moment,  it  is  not  at 
the  Village -end!  One's  heart  flutters  on  the  verge  of 
unutterabilities. 


CHAPTER    VI 
OLD-DRAGOON  DROUET. 

IN  this  manner,  however,  has  the  Day  bent  downwards. 
Wearied  mortals  are  creeping  home  from  their  field-labour; 


JUNE  21,  1791]  OLD-DRAGOON    DROUET    17S 

the  village-artisan  eats  with  relish  his  supper  of  herbs,  or  has 
strolled  forth  to  the  village-street  for  a  sweet  mouthful  of 
air  and  human  news.  Still  summer-eventide  everywhere ! 
The  great  Sun  hangs  flaming  on  the  utmost  Northwest ;  for 
it  is  his  longest  day  this  year.  The  hill-tops  rejoicing  will 
ere  long  be  at  their  ruddiest,  and  blush  Good-night  The 
thrush,  in  green  dells,  on  long-shadowed  leafy  spray,  pours 
gushing  his  glad  serenade,  to  the  babble  of  brooks  grown 
audibler;  silence  is  stealing  over  the  Earth.  Your  dusty 
Mill  of  Valmy,  as  all  other  mills  and  drudgeries,  may  furl  its 
canvas,  and  cease  swashing  and  circling.  The  swenkt  grinders 
in  this  Treadmill  of  an  Earth  have  ground  out  another  Day ; 
and  lounge  there,  as  we  say,  in  village-groups ;  movable,  or 
ranked  on  social  stone-seats ; l  their  children,  mischievous 
imps,  sporting  about  their  feet.  Unnotable  hum  of  sweet 
human  gossip  rises  from  this  Village  of  Sainte-Menehould, 
as  from  all  other  villages.  Gossip  mostly  sweet,  unnotable ; 
for  the  very  Dragoons  are  French  and  gallant ;  nor  as  yet  has 
the  Paris-and- Verdun  Diligence,  with  its  leathern  bag,  rumbled 
in,  to  terrify  the  minds  of  men. 

One  figure  nevertheless  we  do  note  at  the  last  door  of  the 
Village :  that  figure  in  loose-flowing  nightgown,  of  Jean 
Baptiste  Drouet,  Master  of  the  Post  here.  An  acrid  choleric 
man,  rather  dangerous-looking;  still  in  the  prime  of  life, 
though  he  has  served,  in  his  time,  as  a  Conde  Dragoon.  This 
day,  from  an  early  hour  Drouet  got  his  choler  stirred,  and  has 
been  kept  fretting.  Hussar  Goguelat  in  the  morning  saw 
good,  by  way  of  thrift,  to  bargain  with  his  own  Innkeeper, 
not  with  Drouet  regular  Maitre  de  Post,  about  some  gig-horse 
for  the  sending  back  of  his  gig ;  which  thing  Drouet  perceiv- 
ing came  over  in  red  ire,  menacing  the  Innkeeper,  and  would 
not  Jbe  appeased.  Wholly  an  unsatisfactory  day.  For  Drouet 
is  an  acrid  Patriot  too,  was  at  the  Paris  Feast  of  Pikes  :  and 
what  do  these  Bouille  soldiers  mean  ?  Hussars, — with  their 
gig,  and  a  vengeance  to  it ! — have  hardly  been  thrust  out, 

1  Rapport  dt  Af.  Rcmy  (in  Choiseul,  p.  143). 


174  VARENNES  [BK.  iv.  CH.  VL 

when  Dandoins  and  his  fresh  Dragoons  arrive  from  Clermont, 
and  stroll.  For  what  purpose?  Choleric  Drouet  steps  out 
and  steps  in,  with  long-flowing  nightgown ;  looking  abroad, 
with  that  sharpness  of  faculty  which  stirred  choler  gives  to 
man. 

On  the  other  hand,  mark  Captain  Dandoins  on  the  street 
of  that  same  Village ;  sauntering  with  a  face  of  indifference,  a 
heart  eaten  of  black  care  !  For  no  Korff  Berline  makes  its 
appearance.  The  great  Sun  flames  broader  towards  setting : 
one's  heart  flutters  on  the  verge  of  dread  unutterabilities. 

By  Heaven !  here  is  the  yellow  Bodyguard  Courier ;  spur- 
ring fast,  in  the  ruddy  evening  light !  Steady,  O  Dandoins, 
stand  with  inscrutable  indifferent  face ;  though  the  yellow 
blockhead  spurs  past  the  Post-house ;  inquires  to  find  it ;  and 
stirs  the  Village,  all  delighted  with  his  fine  livery. — Lumber- 
ing along  with  its  mountains  of  bandboxes,  and  Chaise  behind, 
the  Korff  Berline  rolls  in ;  huge  Acapulco  ship  with  its  Cock- 
boat, having  got  thus  far.  The  eyes  of  the  Villagers  look 
enlightened,  as  such  eyes  do  when  a  coach-transit,  which  is  an 
event,  occurs  for  them.  Strolling  Dragoons  respectfully,  so 
fine  are  the  yellow  liveries,  bring  hand  to  helmet ;  and  a  Lady 
in  gypsy-hat  responds  with  a  grace  peculiar  to  her.1  Dandoins 
stands  with  folded  arms,  and  what  look  of  indifference  and 
disdainful  garrison-air  a  man  can,  while  the  heart  is  like 
leaping  out  of  him.  Curled  disdainful  mustachio ;  careless 
glance, — which  however  surveys  the  Village-groups,  and  does 
not  like  them.  With  his  eye  he  bespeaks  the  yellow  Courier, 
Be  quick,  be  quick  !  Thick-headed  Yellow  cannot  understand 
the  eye  ;  comes  up  mumbling,  to  ask  in  words :  seen  of  the 
Village ! 

Nor  is  Post-master  Drouet  unobservant  all  this  while  :  but 
steps  out  and  steps  in,  with  his  long-flowing  nightgown,  in 
the  level  sunlight ;  prying  into  several  things.  When  a  man's 
faculties,  at  the  right  time,  are  sharpened  by  choler,  it  may 
lead  to  much.  That  Lady  in  slouched  gypsy-hat,  though 
1  Declaration  de  La  Cache  (in  Choiseul,  ubi  supra}. 


JUNE  2i,  1791]  OLD-DRAGOON    DROUET    175 

sitting  back  in  the  Carriage,  does  she  not  resemble  some  one 
we  have  seen,  some  time; — at  the  Feast  of  Pikes,  or  else- 
where ?  And  this  Grosse-T6te  in  round  hat  and  peruke, 
which,  looking  rearward,  pokes  itself  out  from  time  to  time, 

methinks  there  are  features  in  it ?     Quick,  Sieur  Guil- 

laume,  Clerk  of  the  Directoire,  bring  me  a  new  Assignat ! 
Drouet  scans  the  new  Assignat ;  compares  the  Paper-money 
Picture  with  the  Gross  Head  in  round  hat  there :  by  Day  and 
Night !  you  might  say  the  one  was  an  attempted  Engraving 
of  the  other.  And  this  march  of  Troops;  this  sauntering 
and  whispering, — I  see  it ! 

Drouet  Post-master  of  this  Village,  hot  Patriot,  Old- 
Dragoon  of  Conde,  consider,  therefore,  what  thou  wilt  do. 
And  fast,  for  behold  the  new  Berline,  expeditiously  yoked, 
cracks  whipcord,  and  rolls  away ! — Drouet  dare  not,  on  the 
spur  of  the  instant,  clutch  the  bridles  in  his  own  two  hands ; 
Dandoins,  with  broadsword,  might  hew  you  off.  Our  poor 
Nationals,  not  one  of  them  here,  have  three  hundred  fusils, 
but  then  no  powder ;  besides  one  is  not  sure,  only  morally- 
certain.  Drouet,  as  an  adroit  Old-Dragoon  of  Conde',  does 
what  is  advisablest;  privily  bespeaks  Clerk  Guillaume,  Old- 
Dragoon  of  Condd  he  too ;  privily,  while  Clerk  Guillaume  is 
saddling  two  of  the  fleetest  horses,  slips  over  to  the  Townhall 
to  whisper  a  word  ;  then  mounts  with  Clerk  Guillaume ;  and 
the  two  bound  eastward  in  pursuit,  to  see  what  can  be  done. 

They  bound  eastward,  in  sharp  trot :  their  moral-certainty 
permeating  the  Village,  from  the  Townhall  outwards,  in  busy 
whispers.  Alas !  Captain  Dandoins  orders  his  Dragoons  to 
mount ;  but  they,  complaining  of  long  fast,  demand  bread-and- 
cheese  first; — before  which  brief  repast  can  be  eaten,  the 
whole  Village  is  permeated ;  not  whispering  now,  but  bluster- 
ing and  shrieking !  National  Volunteers,  in  hurried  muster, 
shriek  for  gunpowder ;  Dragoons  halt  between  Patriotism  and 
Rule  of  the  Service,  between  bread-and-cheese  and  fixed 
bayonets  :  Dandoins  hands  secretly  his  Pocket-book,  with  its 


176  VARENNES  [BK.  iv.  CH.  vii, 

secret  despatches,  to  the  rigorous  Quartermaster :  the  very 
Ostlers  have  stable-forks  and  flails.  The  rigorous  Quarter- 
master, half-saddled,  cuts  out  his  way  with  the  sword's  edge, 
amid  levelled  bayonets,  amid  Patriot  vociferations,  adjura- 
tions, flail-strokes;  and  rides  frantic;1 — few  or  even  none 
following  him ;  the  rest,  so  sweetly  constrained,  consenting  to 
stay  there. 

And  thus  the  new  Berline  rolls;  and  Drouet  and  Guillaume 
gallop  after  it,  and  Dandoins'  Troopers  or  Trooper  gallops 
after  them ;  and  Sainte-Menehould,  with  some  leagues  of  the 
King's  Highway,  is  in  explosion  ; — and  your  Military  thunder- 
chain  has  gone  off  in  a  self-destructive  manner ;  one  may  fear, 
with  the  frightfulest  issues. 


CHAPTER   VII 
THE   NIGHT   OF   SPURS 

THIS  comes  of  mysterious  Escorts,  and  a  new  Berline  with 
eleven  horses :  *  he  that  has  a  secret  should  not  only  hide  it, 
but  hide  that  he  has  it  to  hide.'  Your  first  Military  Escort 
has  exploded  self-destructive ;  and  all  Military  Escorts,  and  a 
suspicious  Country  will  now  be  up,  explosive ;  comparable  not 
to  victorious  thunder.  Comparable,  say  rather,  to  the  first 
stirring  of  an  Alpine  Avalanche ;  which,  once  stir  it,  as  here 
at  Sainte-Menehould,  will  spread, — all  round,  and  on  and  on, 
as  far  as  Stenai ;  thundering  with  wild  ruin,  till  Patriot 
Villagers,  Peasantry,  Military  Escorts,  new  Berline  and  Royalty 
are  down, — jumbling  in  the  Abyss  ! 

The  thick  shades  of  Night  are  falling.  Postillions  crack 
and  whip  :  the  Royal  Berline  is  through  Clermont,  where 
Colonel  Comte  de  Damas  got  a  word  whispered  to  it ;  is  safe 
through,  towards  Varennes ;  rushing  at  the  rate  of  double- 
drink-money  :  an  Unknown,  *  Incownu  on  horseback,'  shriek* 
1  Declaration  de  La  Cache  (in  Choiseul,  p.  134). 


JUNE  21,  1791]     THE    NIGHT    OF    SPURS      177 

earnestly  some  hoarse  whisper,  not  audible,  into  the  rushing 
Carriage-window,  and  vanishes,  left  in  the  night1  August 
Travellers  palpitate;  nevertheless  overwearied  Nature  sinks 
every  one  of  them  into  a  kind  of  sleep.  Alas,  and  Drouet 
and  Clerk  Guillaume  spur ;  taking  side-roads,  for  shortness, 
for  safety ;  scattering  abroad  that  moral-certainty  of  theirs ; 
which  flies,  a  bird  of  the  air  carrying  it ! 

And  your  rigorous  Quartermaster  spurs ;  awakening  hoarse 
trumpet-tone, — as  here  at  Clermont,  calling  out  Dragoons 
gone  to  bed.  Brave  Colonel  de  Damas  has  them  mounted,  in 
part,  these  Clermont  men ;  young  Cornet  Remy  dashes  off 
with  a  few.  But  the  Patriot  Magistracy  is  out  here  at 
Clermont  too  ;  National  Guards  shrieking  for  ball-cartridges  ; 
and  the  Village  *  illuminates  itself' ; — deft  Patriots  springing 
out  of  bed ;  alertly,  in  shirt  or  shift,  striking  a  light ;  stick- 
ing up  each  his  farthing  candle,  or  penurious  oil-cruse,  till  all 
glitters  and  glimmers ;  so  deft  are  they !  A  camiscufa,  or 
shirt-tumult,  everywhere  :  storm-bell  set  a-ringing ;  village- 
drum  beating  furious  g&ierale,  as  here  at  Clermont,  under 
illumination ;  distracted  Patriots  pleading  and  menacing ! 
Brave  young  Colonel  de  Damas,  in  that  uproar  of  distracted 
Patriotism,  speaks  some  fire-sentences  to  what  Troopers  he 
has  :  '  Comrades  insulted  at  Sainte-Menehould  :  King  and 
Country  calling  on  the  brave';  then  gives  the  fire- word, 
Draw  swords.  Whereupon,  alas,  the  Troopers  only  smite 
their  sword-handles,  driving  them  farther  home !  *  To  me, 
whoever  is  for  the  King ' !  cries  Damas  in  despair ;  and 
gallops,  he  with  some  poor  loyal  Two,  of  the  Subaltern  sort, 
into  the  bosom  of  the  Night* 

Night  unexampled  in  the  Clermontais ;  shortest  of  the 
year ;  remarkablest  of  the  century :  Night  deserving  to  be 
named  of  Spurs !  Cornet  Remy,  and  those  Few  he  dashed  off 
with,  has  missed  his  road ;  is  galloping  for  hours  towards 
Verdun ;  then,  for  hours,  across  hedged  country,  through 

1  Campan,  ii.  159. 

1  Precis-verbal  du  Dirtctrirt  d»  Clermont  (in  Choiseul,  pp.  189-95). 
VOL.   II.  M 


178  VARENNES          [BK.  iv.  CH.  vn. 

roused  hamlets,  towards  Varennes.  Unlucky  Cornet  Remy; 
unluckier  Colonel  Damas,  with  whom  there  ride  desperate  only 
some  loyal  Two !  More  ride  not  of  that  Clermont  Escort : 
of  other  Escorts,  in  other  Villages,  not  even  Two  may  ride ; 
but  only  all  curvet  and  prance, — impeded  by  storm-bell  and 
your  Village  illuminating  itself. 

And  Drouet  rides  and  Clerk  Guillaume ;  and  the  Country 
runs. — Goguelat  and  Duke  Choiseul  are  plunging  through 
morasses,  over  cliffs,  over  stock  and  stone,  in  the  shaggy  woods 
of  the  Clermontais ;  by  tracks ;  or  trackless,  with  guides ; 
Hussars  tumbling  into  pitfalls,  and  lying  *  swooned  three 
quarters  of  an  hour,'  the  rest  refusing  to  march  without 
them.  What  an  evening  ride  from  Pont-de-Sommevelle ; 
what  a  thirty  hours,  since  Choiseul  quitted  Paris,  with 
Queen's- valet  Leonard  in  the  chaise  by  him  !  Black  Care 
sits  behind  the  rider.  Thus  go  they  plunging ;  rustle  the 
owlet  from  his  branchy  nest ;  champ  the  sweet-scented  forest- 
herb,  queen-of-the-meadows  spilling  her  spikenard;  and  frighten 
the  ear  of  Night.  But  hark  !  towards  twelve  o'clock,  as  one 
guesses,  for  the  very  stars  are  gone  out :  sound  of  the  tocsin 
from  Varennes  ?  Checking  bridle,  the  Hussar  Officer  listens  : 
*  Some  fire  undoubtedly  ! ' — yet  rides  on,  with  double  breath- 
lessness,  to  verify. 

Yes,  gallant  friends  that  do  your  utmost,  it  is  a  certain 
sort  of  fire :  difficult  to  quench. — The  Korff  Berline,  fairly 
ahead  of  all  this  riding  Avalanche,  reached  the  little  paltry 
Village  of  Varennes  about  eleven  o'clock  ;  hopeful,  in  spite  of 
that  hoarse-whispering  Unknown.  Do  not  all  Towns  now 
lie  behind  us ;  Verdun  avoided,  on  our  right  ?  Within  wind 
of  Bouille  himself,  in  a  manner;  and  the  darkest  of  mid- 
summer nights  favouring  us !  And  so  we  halt  on  the  hill-top 
at  the  South  end  of  the  Village ;  expecting  our  relay  ;  which 
young  Bouille,  Bouille's  own  son,  with  his  Escort  of  Hussars, 
was  to  have  ready ;  for  in  this  Village  is  no  Post.  Distracting 
to  think  of :  neither  horse  nor  Hussar  is  here !  Ah,  and 
stout  horses,  a  proper  relay  belonging  to  Duke  Choiseul,  do 


JUNE  2i,  1791]    THE    NIGHT    OF    SPURS      179 

stand  at  hay,  but  in  the  Upper  Village  over  the  Bridge ;  and 
we  know  not  of  them.  Hussars  likewise  do  wait,  but  drinking 
in  the  taverns.  For  indeed  it  is  six  hours  beyond  the  time ; 
young  Somite,  silly  stripling,  thinking  the  matter  over  for 
this  night,  has  retired  to  bed.  And  so  our  yellow  Couriers, 
inexperienced,  must  rove,  groping,  bungling,  through  a  village 
mostly  asleep :  Postillions  will  not,  for  any  money,  go  on 
with  the  tired  horses ;  not  at  least  without  refreshment ;  not 
they,  let  the  Valet  in  round  hat  argue  as  he  likes. 

Miserable  !  *  For  five-and-thirty  minutes '  by  the  King's 
watch,  the  Berline  is  at  a  dead  stand  :  Round-hat  arguing 
with  Churn-boots ;  tired  horses  slobbering  their  meal-and- 
water ;  yellow  Couriers  groping,  bungling  ; — young  Bouil  le 
asleep,  all  the  while,  in  the  Upper  Village,  and  ChoiseuTs  fine 
team  standing  there  at  hay.  No  help  for  it ;  not  with  a 
King's  ransom ;  the  horses  deliberately  slobber,  Round-hat 
argues,  Bouilte  sleeps.  And  mark  now,  in  the  thick  night, 
do  not  two  Horsemen,  with  jaded  trot,  come  clank-clanking ; 
and  start  with  half-pause,  if  one  noticed  them,  at  sight  of 
this  dim  mass  of  a  Berline,  and  its  dull  slobbering  and  arguing; 
then  prick  off  faster,  into  the  Village  ?  It  is  Drouet,  he  and 
Clerk  Guillauine  !  Still  ahead,  they  two,  of  the  whole  riding 
hurlyburly ;  unshot,  though  some  brag  of  having  chased  them. 
Perilous  is  Drouet's  errand  also ;  but  he  is  an  Old-Dragoon, 
with  his  wits  shaken  thoroughly  awake. 

The  Village  of  Varennes  lies  dark  and  slumberous ;  a  most 
unlevel  Village,  of  Diverse  saddle-shape,  as  men  write.  It 
sleeps ;  the  rushing  of  the  River  Aire  singing  lullaby  to  it 
Nevertheless  from  the  Golden  Arm,  Bras  cTOr  Tavern,  across 
that  sloping  Marketplace,  there  still  comes  shine  of  social 
light ;  comes  voice  of  rude  drovers,  or  the  like,  who  have  not 
yet  taken  the  stirrup-cup ;  Boniface  Le  Blanc,  in  white  apron, 
serving  them  :  cheerful  to  behold.  To  this  Bras  cTOr  Drouet 
enters,  alacrity  looking  through  his  eyes ;  he  nudges  Boniface, 
in  all  privacy,  *  Camarade,  es-tu  bon  Patriote,  Art  thou  a  good 
Patriot  ? ' — *  Si  je  mis ! '  answers  Boniface. — *  In  that  case,1 


180  VARENNES  [BK.  iv.  CH.  vii. 

eagerly  whispers  Drouet — what  whisper  is  needful,  heard  of 
Boniface  alone.1 

And  now  see  Boniface  Le  Blanc  bustling,  as  he  never  did 
for  the  j  oiliest  toper.  See  Drouet  and  Guillaume,  dexterous 
Old-Dragoons,  instantly  down  blocking  the  Bridge,  with  a 
4  furniture- wagon  they  find  there,1  with  whatever  wagons, 
tumbrils,  barrels,  barrows  their  hands  can  lay  hold  of; — till 
no  carriage  can  pass.  Then  swiftly,  the  Bridge  once  blocked, 
see  them  take  station  hard  by,  under  Varennes  Archway  • 
joined  by  Le  Blanc,  Le  Blanc's  Brother,  and  one  or  two  alert 
Patriots  he  has  roused.  Some  half-dozen  in  all,  with  National 
muskets,  they  stand  close,  waiting  under  the  Archway,  till 
that  same  Korff  Berline  rumble  up. 

It  rumbles  up:  Alte  la!  lanterns  flash  out  from  under 
coat-skirts,  bridles  chuck  in  strong  fists,  two  National  muskets 
level  themselves  fore  and  aft  through  the  two  Coach-doors : 
*  Mesdames,  your  Passports  ? ' — Alas,  alas  !  Sieur  Sausse, 
Procureur  of  the  Township,  Tallow-chandler  also  and  Grocer,  is 
there,  with  official  grocer-politeness  ;  Drouet  with  fierce  logic 
and  ready  wit: — The  respected  Travelling  Party,  be  it  Baroness 
de  KorfTs,  or  persons  of  still  higher  consequence,  will  perhaps 
please  to  rest  itself  in  M.  Sausse's  till  the  dawn  strike  up  ! 

O  Louis ;  O  hapless  Marie- Antoinette,  fated  to  pass  thy  life 
with  such  men  !  Phlegmatic  Louis,  art  thou  but  lazy  semi- 
animate  phlegm,  then,  to  the  centre  of  thee  ?  King,  Captain- 
General,  Sovereign  Frank !  if  thy  heart  ever  formed,  since  it 
began  beating  under  the  name  of  heart,  any  resolution  at  all, 
be  it  now  then,  or  never  in  this  world  : — *  Violent  nocturnal 
individuals,  and  if  it  were  persons  of  high  consequence  ?  And 
if  it  were  the  King  himself?  Has  the  King  not  the 
power,  which  all  beggars  have,  of  travelling  unmolested  on  his 
own  Highway  ?  Yes :  it  is  the  King ;  and  tremble  ye  to 
know  it !  The  King  has  said,  in  this  one  small  matter ;  and 
in  France,  or  under  God's  Throne,  is  no  power  that  shall 
gainsay.  Not  the  King  shall  ye  stop  here  under  this  your 

1  Deux  Amis,  vi.  139-78. 


JUNE  2i,  1791]     THE    NIGHT    OF    SPURS      181 

miserable  Archway ;  but  his  dead  body  only,  and  answer  it  to 
Heaven  and  Earth.  To  me,  Bodyguards;  Postillions,  en 
avant ! ' — One  fancies  in  that  case  the  pale  paralysis  of  these 
two  Le  Blanc  musketeers ;  the  drooping  of  Drouet's  underjaw ; 
and  how  Procureur  Sausse  had  melted  like  tallow  in  furnace- 
heat  :  Louis  faring  on ;  in  some  few  steps  awakening  Young 
Bouille,  awakening  relays  and  Hussars :  triumphant  entry, 
with  cavalcading  high-brandishing  Escort,  and  Escorts,  into 
Montmedi ;  and  the  whole  course  of  French  History  different ! 

Alas,  it  was  not  in  the  poor  phlegmatic  man.  Had  it  been 
in  him,  Frencn  History  had  never  come  under  this  Varennes 
Archway  to  decide  itself.  —  He  steps  out ;  all  step  out. 
Procureur  Sausse  gives  his  grocer-arms  to  the  Queen  and 
Sister  Elizabeth;  Majesty  taking  the  two  children  by  the 
hand.  And  thus  they  walk,  coolly  back,  over  the  Market- 
place to  Procureur  Sausse's;  mount  into  his  small  upper 
story ;  where  straightway  his  Majesty  '  demands  refreshments.' 
Demands  refreshments,  as  is  written ;  gets  bread-and-cheese 
with  a  bottle  of  Burgundy ;  and  remarks,  that  it  is  the  best 
Burgundy  he  ever  drank  ! 

Meanwhile  the  Varennes  Notables,  and  all  men,  official  and 
non-official,  are  hastily  drawing-on  their  breeches;  getting 
their  fighting  gear.  Mortals  half-dressed  tumble  out  barrels, 
lay  felled  trees ;  scouts  dart  off  to  all  the  four  winds, — the 
tocsin  begins  clanging  *  the  Village  illuminates  itself.'  Very 
singular :  how  these  little  Villages  do  manage,  so  adroit  are 
they,  when  startled  in  midnight  alarm  of  war.  Like  little 
adroit  municipal  rattle-snakes  suddenly  awakened  :  for  their 
storm-bell  rattles  and  rings ;  their  eyes  glisten  luminous  (with 
tallow-light),  as  in  rattle-snake  ire ;  and  the  Village  will  sting. 
Old-Dragoon  Drouet  is  our  engineer  and  generalissimo ; 
valiant  as  a  Ruy  Diaz : — Now  or  never,  ye  Patriots,  for  the 
soldiery  is  coming;  massacre  by  Austrians,  by  Aristocrats, 
wars  more  than  civil,  it  all  depends  on  you  and  the  hour  ! — 
National  Guards  rank  themselves,  half-buttoned :  mortals,  we 
say,  still  only  in  breeches,  in  under-petticoat,  tumble  out 


182  VARENNES       [BK.iv.cH.vit. 

barrels  and  lumber,  lay  felled  trees  for  barricades :  the  Village 
will  sting.  Rabid  Democracy,  it  would  seem,  is  not  confined 
to  Paris,  then  ?  Ah  no,  whatsoever  Courtiers  might  talk ; 
too  clearly  no.  This  of  dying  for  one's  King  is  grown  into  a 
dying  for  one's  self,  against  the  King,  if  need  be. 

And  so  our  riding  and  running  Avalanche  and  Hurlyburly 
has  reached  the  Abyss,  Korff  Berline  foremost ;  and  may  pour 
itself  thither,  and  jumble  :  endless  !  For  the  next  six  hours, 
need  we  ask  if  there  was  a  clattering  far  and  wide  ?  Clatter- 
ing and  tocsining  and  hot  tumult,  over  all  the  Clermontais, 
spreading  through  the  Three- Bishopricks  :  Dragoon  and 
Hussar  Troops  galloping  on  roads  and  no-roads ;  National 
Guards  arming  and  starting  in  the  dead  of  night;  tocsin 
after  tocsin  transmitting  the  alarm.  In  some  forty  minutes, 
Goguelat  and  Choiseul,  with  their  wearied  Hussars,  reach 
Varennes.  Ah,  it  is  no  fire,  then ;  or  a  fire  difficult  to 
quench  !  They  leap  the  tree-barricades,  in  spite  of  National 
sergeant;  they  enter  the  village,  Choiseul  instructing  his 
Troopers  how  the  matter  really  is ;  who  respond  interjection- 
ally,  in  their  guttural  dialect,  *  Der  Konig ;  die  Koniginn ! ' 
and  seem  stanch.  These  now,  in  their  stanch  humour,  will, 
for  one  thing,  beset  Procureur  Sausse's  house.  Most  bene- 
ficial :  had  not  Drouet  stormfully  ordered  otherwise ;  and 
even  bellowed,  in  his  extremity,  *  Cannoneers,  to  your  guns  !  * 
— two  old  honeycombed  Field-pieces,  empty  of  all  but  cob- 
webs ;  the  rattle  whereof,  as  the  Cannoneers  with  assured 
countenance  trundled  them  up,  did  nevertheless  abate  the 
Hussar  ardour,  and  produce  a  respectfuler  ranking  farther 
back.  Jugs  of  wine,  handed  over  the  ranks, — for  the  German 
throat  too  has  sensibility, — will  complete  the  business.  When 
Engineer  Goguelat,  some  hour  or  so  afterwards,  steps  forth, 
the  response  to  him  is — a  hiccuping  Vive  la  Nation! 

What  boots  it?  Goguelat,  Choiseul,  now  also  Count 
Damas,  and  all  the  Varennes  Officiality  are  with  the  King ; 
and  the  King  can  give  no  order,  form  no  opinion ;  but  sits 
there,  as  he  has  ever  done,  like  clay  on  potter's  wheel ; 


JUNE  22,  1791]     THE    NIGHT    OF    SPURS      183 

perhaps  the  absurdest  of  all   pitiable  and   pardonable  clay- 


figures  that  now  circle  under  the  Moon.  He  wjll  go  on, 
next  morning,  and  take  the  National  Guard  icith  him  ;  Sausse 
permitting  !  Hapless  Queen  :  with  her  two  children  laid 
there  on  the  mean  bed,  old  Mother  Sausse  kneeling  to 
Heaven,  with  tears  and  an  audible  prayer,  to  bless  them  ; 
imperial  Marie-Antoinette  near  kneeling  to  Son  Sausse  and 
Wife  Sausse,  amid  candle-boxes  and  treacle-barrels,  —  in  vain  ! 
There  are  Three  thousand  National  Guards  got  in  ;  before 
long  they  will  count  Ten  thousand  :  tocsins  spreading  like 
fire  on  dry  heath,  or  far  faster. 

Young  Bouille,  roused  by  this  Varennes  tocsin,  has  taken 
horse,  and  —  fled  towards  his  Father.  Thitherward  also  rides, 
in  an  almost  hysterically  desperate  manner,  a  certain  Sieur 
Aubriot,  ChoiseuTs  Orderly;  swimming  dark  rivers,  our 
Bridge  being  blocked  ;  spurring  as  if  the  Hell-hunt  were  at 
his  heels.1  Through  the  village  of  Dun,  he  galloping  still  on, 
scatters  the  alarm  ;  at  Dun,  brave  Captain  Deslons  and  hit 
Escort  of  a  Hundred  saddle  and  ride.  Deslons  too  gets  into 
Varennes  ;  leaving  his  Hundred  outside,  at  the  tree-barricade  ; 
offers  to  cut  King  Louis  out,  if  he  will  order  it  :  but  unfor- 
tunately *  the  work  untt  prove  hot  '  :  whereupon  King  Louis 
has  *  no  orders  to  give.'  f 

And  so  the  tocsin  clangs,  and  Dragoons  gallop,  and  can 
do  nothing,  having  galloped  :  National  Guards  stream  in  like 
the  gathering  of  ravens  :  your  exploding  Thunder-chain, 
falling  Avalanche,  or  what  else  we  liken  it  to,  does  play, 
with  a  vengeance,  —  up  now  as  far  as  Stenai  and  Bouille 
himself.8  Brave  BoiiiHe*,  son  of  the  whirlwind,  he  saddles 
Royal-  Allemand  ;  speaks  fire-  words,  kindling  heart  and  eyes  ; 
distributes  twenty-five  gold-louis  a  company  :  —  Ride,  Royal- 
Allemand,  long-famed  :  no  Tuileries  Charge  and  Necker- 
Orleans  Bust-Procession;  a  very  King  made  captive,  and 

1  Ra    ortdeM.  Aubriot  (in  Choiseul,  pp.  150-7). 

1  Extrait  <fun  Rapport  d*  Af.  Dttlons  (in  Choiseul,  pp.  16  •?)• 

*  BouilW,  ii.  74-6. 


184  VARENNES          [BK.  iv.  CH.  vii. 

world  all  to  win ! — Such  is  the  Night  deserving  to  be  named 
of  Spurs. 

At  six  o'clock  two  things  have  happened.  Lafayette's 
Aide-de-camp,  Romoeuf,  riding  a  franc  ttrier,  on  that  old 
Herb-merchant's  route,  quickened  during  the  last  stages,  has 
got  to  Varennes ;  where  the  Ten  thousand  now  furiously 
demand,  with  fury  of  panic  terror,  that  Royalty  shall  forth- 
with return  Paris-ward,  that  there  be  not  infinite  blood- 
shed. Also,  on  the  other  side,  '  English  Tom,'  Choiseul's 
jokei,  flying  with  that  Choiseul  relay,  has  met  Bouille  on  the 
the  heights  of  Dun ;  the  adamantine  brow  flushed  with  dark 
thunder ;  thunderous  rattle  of  Royal  Allemand  at  his  heels. 
English  Tom  answers  as  he  can  the  brief  question,  How  it  is 
at  Varennes? — then  asks  in  turn,  What  he,  English  Tom, 
with  M.  de  Choiseul's  horses,  is  to  do,  and  whither  to  ride  ? — 
To  the  Bottomless  Pool !  answers  a  thunder-voice ;  then 
again  speaking  and  spurring,  orders  Royal- Allemand  to  the 
gallop ;  and  vanishes,  swearing  (en  juranf).1  Tis  the  last  of 
our  brave  BoiiiUe".  Within  sight  of  Varennes,  he  having 
drawn  bridle,  calls  a  council  of  officers;  finds  that  it  is  in 
vain.  King  Louis  has  departed,  consenting :  amid  the 
clangour  of  universal  stormbell;  amid  the  tramp  of  Ten 
thousand  armed  men,  already  arrived;  and  say,  of  Sixty 
thousand  flocking  thither.  Brave  Deslons,  even  without 
'  orders,'  darted  at  the  River  Aire  with  his  Hundred ; 2  swam 
one  branch  of  it,  could  not  the  other;  and  stood  there, 
dripping  and  panting,  with  inflated  nostril;  The  Ten  thousand 
answering  him  with  a  shout  of  mockery,  the  new  Berline 
lumbering  Paris-ward  its  weary  inevitable  way.  No  help, 
then,  in  Earth ;  nor,  in  an  age  not  of  miracles,  in  Heaven  ! 

That  night,  *  Marquis  de  Bouille*  and  twenty-one  more  of 
us  rode  over  the  Frontiers :  the  Bernardine  monks  at  Orval 
in  Luxemburg  gave  us  supper  and  lodging.' 8  With  little  of 

1  Declaration  du  Sieur  Thomas  (in  Choiseul,  p.  1 88). 

*  Weber,  ii.  386.  »  Aubriot,  ut  supri,  p.  158. 


JUNE  25,  1791]        THE    RETURN  185 

speech,  Bouille  rides;  with  thoughts  that  do  not  brook  speech. 
Northward,  towards  uncertainty,  and  the  Cimmerian  Night : 
towards  West-Indian  Isles,  for  with  thin  Emigrant  delirium 
the  son  of  the  whirlwind  cannot  act ;  towards  England, 
towards  premature  Stoical  death  ;  not  towards  France  any 
more.  Honour  to  the  Brave ;  who,  be  it  in  this  quarrel  or  in 
that,  is  a  substance  and  articulate-speaking  piece  of  human 
Valour,  not  a  fanfaronading  hollow  Spectrum  and  squeaking 
and  gibbering  Shadow  !  One  of  the  few  Royalist  Chief-actors 
this  Bouille,  of  whom  so  much  can  be  said. 

The  brave  Bouilld  too,  then,  vanishes  from  the  tissue  of  our 
Story.  Story  and  tissue,  faint  ineffectual  Emblem  of  that 
grand  Miraculous  Tissue,  and  Living  Tapestry  named  French 
Revolution,  which  did  weave  itself  then  in  very  fact,  *  on  the 
loud-sounding  LOOM  OF  TIME  ' !  The  old  Brave  drop  out  from 
it,  with  their  strivings;  and  new  acrid  Drouets,  of  new  strivings 
and  colour,  come  in  : — as  is  the  manner  of  that  weaving. 


CHAPTER    VIII 
THE  RETURN 

So,  then,  our  grand  Royalist  Plot,  of  Flight  to  Metz,  has 
executed  itself.  Long  hovering  in  the  background,  as  a  dread 
royal  ultimatum,  it  has  rushed  forward  in  its  terrors  :  verily  to 
some  purpose.  How  many  Royalist  Plots  and  Projects,  one 
after  another,  cunningly-devised,  that  were  to  explode  like 
powder-mines  and  thunder-claps;  not  one  solitary  Plot  of  which 
has  issued  otherwise  !  Powder-mine  of  a  Stance  Royalc  on 
the  Twenty-third  of  June  1789,  which  exploded  as  we  then 
said,  *  through  the  touchhole ' ;  which  next,  your  wargod 
Broglie  having  reloaded  it,  brought  a  Bastille  about  your  ears. 
Then  came  fervent  Opera-Repast,  with  flourishing  of  sabres, 
and  O  Richard,  O  my  King\  which,  aided  by  Hunger,  pro- 
duces Insurrection  of  Women,  and  Pallas  Athene  in  the  shape 


VARENNES      [BK.  iv.  CH.  vm. 

of  Demoiselle  Theroigne.  Valour  profits  not;  neither  has 
fortune  smiled  on  fanfaronade.  The  BoiiiHe"  Armament  ends 
as  the  Broglie  one  had  done.  Man  after  man  spends  him- 
self in  this  cause,  only  to  work  it  quicker  ruin ;  it  seems  a 
cause  doomed,  forsaken  of  Earth  and  Heaven. 

On  the  Sixth  of  October  gone  a  year,  King  Louis,  escorted 
by  Demoiselle  Theroigne  and  some  two  hundred  thousand, 
made  a  Royal  Progress  and  Entrance  into  Paris,  such  as  man 
had  never  witnessed ;  we  prophesied  him  Two  more  such  ;  and 
accordingly  another  of  them,  after  this  Flight  to  Metz,  is  now 
coming  to  pass.  Theroigne  will  not  escort  here  ;  neither  does 
Mirabeau  now  'sit  in  one  of  the  accompanying  carriages.' 
Mirabeau  lies  dead,  in  the  Pantheon  of  Great  Men.  Theroigne 
lies  living,  in  dark  Austrian  Prison ;  having  gone  to  Liege, 
professionally,  and  been  seized  there.  Bemurmured  now  by 
the  hoarse-flowing  Danube :  the  light  of  her  Patriot  Supper- 
parties  gone  quite  out ;  so  lies  Theroigne :  she  shall  speak 
with  the  Kaiser  face  to  face,  and  return.  And  France  lies — 
how !  Fleeting  Time  shears  down  the  great  and  the  little ; 
and  in  two  years  alters  many  things. 

But  at  all  events,  here,  we  say,  is  a  second  Ignominious 
Royal  Procession,  though  much  altered ;  to  be  witnessed  also 
by  its  hundreds  of  thousands.  Patience,  ye  Paris  Patriots ; 
the  Royal  Berline  is  returning.  Not  till  Saturday :  for  the 
Royal  Berline  travels  by  slow  stages ;  amid  such  loud-voiced 
confluent  sea  of  National  Guards,  sixty  thousand  as  they 
count ;  amid  such  tumult  of  all  people.  Three  National- 
Assembly  Commissioners,  famed  Barnave,  famed  Petion,  gene- 
rally-respectable Latour-Maubourg,  have  gone  to  meet  it ;  of 
whom  the  two  former  ride  in  the  Berline  itself  beside  Majesty, 
day  after  day.  Latour,  as  a  mere  respectability,  and  man  of 
whom  all  men  speak  well,  can  ride  in  the  rear,  with  Dame  de 
Tourzel  and  the  Soubrettes. 

So  on  Saturday  evening,  about  seven  o'clock,  Paris  by  hun- 
dreds of  thousands  is  again  drawn  up  :  not  now  dancing  the 
tricolor  joy-dance  of  hope;  nor  as  yet  dancing  in  fury-dance  of 


JUNE  25,  1791]        THE    RETURN  187 

hate  and  revenge :  but  in  silence,  with  vague  look  of  conjecture, 
and  curiosity  mostly  scientific.  A  Saint- Antoine  Placard  has 
given  notice  this  morning  that  *  whosoever  insults  Louis  shall 
be  caned,  whosoever  applauds  him  shall  be  hanged/  Behold 
then,  at  last,  that  wonderful  New  Berline ;  encircled  by  blue 
National  sea  with  fixed  bayonets,  which  flows  slowly,  floating 
it  on,  through  the  silent  assembled  hundreds  of  thousands. 
Three  yellow  Couriers  sit  atop  bound  with  ropes ;  Petion, 
Barnave,  their  Majesties,  with  Sister  Elizabeth,  and  the 
Children  of  France,  are  within. 

Smile  of  embarrassment,  or  cloud  of  dull  sourness,  is  on  the 
broad  phlegmatic  face  of  his  Majesty ;  who  keeps  declaring  to 
the  successive  Official  persons,  what  is  evident,  *  Eh  bieny  me 
voila,  Well,  here  you  have  me ' ;  and  what  is  not  evident,  *  I 
do  assure  you  I  did  not  mean  to  pass  the  frontiers ' ;  and  so 
forth :  speeches  natural  for  that  poor  Royal  Man ;  which 
Decency  would  veil.  Silent  is  her  Majesty,  with  a  look  of 
grief  and  scorn ;  natural  for  that  Royal  Woman.  Thus 
lumbers  and  creeps  the  ignominious  Royal  Procession,  through 
many  streets,  amid  a  silent-gazing  people :  comparable,  Mer- 
rier thinks,1  to  some  Procession  du  Roi  de  Basoche\  or  say, 
Procession  of  King  Crispin,  with  his  Dukes  of  Sutormania  and 
royal  blazonry  of  Cordwainery.  Except  indeed  that  this  is 
not  comic ;  ah  no,  it  is  comico-tragic ;  with  bound  Couriers, 
and  a  Doom  hanging  over  it ;  most  fantastic,  yet  most  miser- 
ably real.  Miserablest  jlebile  htdibrium  of  a  Pickleherring 
Tragedy !  It  sweeps  along  there,  in  most  tmgorgeous  pall, 
through  many  streets  in  the  dusty  summer  evening ;  gets  itself 
at  length  wriggled  out  of  sight;  vanishing  in  the  Tuileries 
Palace, — towards  its  doom,  of  slow  torture,  peine  forte  et  dure. 

Populace,  it  is  true,  seizes  the  three  rope-bound  yellow  Cou- 
riers ;  will  at  least  massacre  them.  But  our  august  Assembly, 
which  is  sitting  at  this  great  moment,  sends  out  Deputation 
of  rescue ;  and  the  whole  is  got  huddled  up.  Barnave,  *  all 
dusty/  is  already  there,  in  the  National  Hall ;  making  brief 

1  Nouveau  Paris,  iii.  22. 


188  VARENNES        fBKriv.cH.ix. 

discreet  address  and  report.  As  indeed,  through  the  whole 
journey,  this  Barnave  has  been  most  discreet,  sympathetic; 
and  has  gained  the  Queen's  trust,  whose  noble  instinct  teaches 
her  always  who  is  to  be  trusted.  Very  different  from  heavy 
Petion ;  who,  if  Campan  speak  truth,  ate  his  luncheon,  com- 
fortably filled  his  wine-glass,  in  the  Royal  Berline  ;  flung  out 
his  chicken-bones  past  the  nose  of  Royalty  itself ;  and,  on  the 
King's  saying,  *  France  cannot  be  a  Republic,1  answered,  *  No, 
it  is  not  ripe  yet.'  Barnave  is  henceforth  a  Queen's  adviser, 
if  advice  could  profit :  and  her  Majesty  astonishes  Dame 
Campan  by  signifying  almost  a  regard  for  Barnave  ;  and  that, 
hi  a  day  of  retribution  and  Royal  triumph,  Barnave  shall  not 
be  executed.1 

On  Monday  night  Royalty  went ;  on  Saturday  evening  it 
returns  :  so  much,  within  one  short  week,  has  Royalty  accom- 
plished for  itself.  The  Pickleherring  Tragedy  has  vanished  in 
the  Tuileries  Palace,  towards  'pain  strong  and  hard.'  Watched, 
fettered  and  humbled,  as  Royalty  never  was.  Watched  even 
in  its  sleeping-apartments  and  inmost  recesses :  for  it  has  to 
sleep  with  door  set  ajar,  blue  National  Argus  watching,  his 
eye  fixed  on  the  Queen's  curtains ;  nay,  on  one  occasion,  as  the 
Queen  cannot  sleep,  he  offers  to  sit  by  her  pillow,  and  converse 
a  little ! 2 


CHAPTER    IX 

SHARP   SHOT 

IN  regard  to  all  which,  this  most  pressing  question  arises 
What  is  to  be  done  with  it  ?  Depose  it !  resolutely  answer 
Robespierre  and  the  thoroughgoing  few.  For,  truly,  with  a 
King  who  runs  away,  and  needs  to  be  watched  hi  his  very 
bedroom  that  he  may  stay  and  govern  you,  what  other  reason- 
able thing  can  be  done  ?  Had  Philippe  d'Orleans  not  been  a 
1  Campan,  ii.  c.  18.  *  Ibid,  ii.  149. 


JULYI790  SHARP    SHOT  189 

caput  mortuum !  But  of  him,  known  as  one  defunct,  no  man 
now  dreams.  Depose  it  not ;  say  that  it  is  inviolable,  that 
it  was  spirited  away,  was  enlevt ;  at  any  cost  of  sophistry  and 
solecism,  reestablish  it !  so  answer  with  loud  vehemence  all 
manner  of  Constitutional  Royalists ;  as  all  your  pure  Royal- 
ists do  naturally  likewise,  with  low  vehemence,  and  rage  com- 
pressed by  fear,  still  more  passionately  answer.  Nay  Barnave 
and  the  two  Lameths,  and  what  will  follow  them,  do  likewise 
answer  so.  Answer,  with  their  whole  might :  terrorstruck  at 
the  unknown  Abysses  on  the  verge  of  which,  driven  thither 
by  themselves  mainly,  all  now  reels,  ready  to  plunge. 

By  mighty  effort  and  combination,  this  latter  course  is  the 
course  fixed  on ;  and  it  shall  by  the  strong  arm,  if  not  by  the 
clearest  logic,  be  made  good.  With  the  sacrifice  of  all  their 
hard-earned  popularity,  this  notable  Triumvirate,  says  Tou- 
longeon,  *  set  the  Throne  up  again,  which  they  had  so  toiled 
to  overturn :  as  one  might  set  up  an  overturned  pyramid,  on 
its  vertex ' ;  to  stand  so  long  as  it  is  held. 

Unhappy  France ;  unhappy  in  King,  Queen,  and  Constitu- 
tion ;  one  knows  not  in  which  unhappiest !  Was  the  mean- 
ing of  our  so  glorious  French  Revolution  this,  and  no  other, 
That  when  Shams  and  Delusions,  long  soul-killing,  had  become 
body-killing,  and  got  the  length  of  Bankruptcy  and  Inanition, 
a  great  People  rose  and,  with  one  voice,  said,  in  the  Name  of 
the  Highest :  Shams  shall  be  no  more  f  So  many  sorrows 
and  bloody  horrors,  endured,  and  to  be  yet  endured  through 
dismal  coming  centuries,  were  they  not  the  heavy  price  paid 
and  payable  for  this  same  :  Total  Destruction  of  Shams  from 
among  men  ?  And  now,  O  Barnave  Triumvirate !  is  it  in 
such  double-distilled  Delusion,  and  Sham  even  of  a  Sham,  that 
an  effort  of  this  kind  will  rest  acquiescent  ?  Messieurs  of  the 
popular  Triumvirate,  never ! — But,  after  all,  what  can  poor 
popular  Triumvirates,  and  fallible  august  Senators,  do  ?  They 
can,  when  the  Truth  is  ail-too  horrible,  stick  their  heads 
ostrich-like  into  what  sheltering  Fallacy  is  nearest ;  and  wait 
there,  a  vosterwri. 


190  VARENNES  [BK.  iv.  CH.  ix. 

Readers  who  saw  the  Clermontais  and  Three-Bishopricks 
gallop  in  the  Night  of  Spurs ;  Diligences  ruffling  up  all 
France  into  one  terrific  terrified  Cock  of  India  ;  and  the  Town 
of  Nantes  in  its  shirt, — may  fancy  what  an  affair  to  settle 
this  was.  Robespierre,  on  the  extreme  Left,  with  perhaps 
Petion  and  lean  old  Goupil,  for  the  very  Triumvirate  has 
defalcated,  are  shrieking  hoarse ;  drowned  in  Constitutional 
clamour.  But  the  debate  and  arguing  of  a  whole  Nation ; 
the  bellowings  through  all  Journals,  for  and  against;  the 
reverberant  voice  of  Danton  ;  the  Hyperion  shafts  of  Camille, 
the  porcupine -quills  of  implacable  Marat:  —  conceive  all 
this. 

Constitutionalists  in  a  body,  as  we  often  predicted,  do 
now  recede  from  the  Mother  Society,  and  become  Feuillans ; 
threatening  her  with  inanition,  the  rank  and  respectability 
being  mostly  gone.  Petition  after  Petition,  forwarded  by 
Post,  or  borne  in  Deputation,  comes  praying  for  Judgment 
and  Dechtance,  which  is  our  name  for  Deposition ;  praying,  at 
lowest,  for  Reference  to  the  Eighty-three  Departments  of 
France.  Hot  Marseillese  Deputation  comes  declaring,  among 
other  things :  *  Our  Phocean  Ancestors  flung  a  Bar  of  Iron 
into  the  Bay  at  their  first  landing ;  this  Bar  will  float  again 
on  the  Mediterranean  brine  before  we  consent  to  be  slaves.1 
All  this  for  four  weeks  or  more,  while  the  matter  still  hangs 
doubtful ;  Emigration  streaming  with  double  violence  over 
the  frontiers  ;*  France  seething  in  fierce  agitation  of  this 
question  and  prize-question :  What  is  to  be  done  with  the 
fugitive  Hereditary  Representative  ? 

Finally,  on  Friday  the  15th  of  July  1791,  the  National 
Assembly  decides  ;  in  what  negatory  manner  we  know.  Where- 
upon the  Theatres  all  close,  the  Bourne-stones  and  Portable- 
chairs  begin  spouting.  Municipal  Placards  flaming  on  the 
walls,  and  Proclamations  published  by  sound  of  trumpet, 
'invite  to  repose';  with  small  effect.  And  so,  on  Sunday 
the  17th,  there  shall  be  a  thing  seen,  worthy  of  remembering. 

1  Eouille,  ii.  IOZ. 


JULY  17,  1791]          SHARP    SHOT  191 

Scroll  of  a  Petition,  drawn  up  by  Brissots,  Dantons,  by 
Cordeliers,  Jacobins ;  for  the  thing  was  infinitely  shaken  and 
manipulated,  and  many  had  a  hand  in  it :  such  Scroll  lies 
now  visible,  on  the  wooden  framework  of  the  Fatherland's 
Altar,  for  signature.  Unworking  Paris,  male  and  female,  is 
crowding  thither,  all  day,  to  sign  or  to  see.  Our  fair  Roland 
herself  the  eye  of  History  can  discern  there  *  in  the  morningV 
not  without  interest.  In  few  weeks  the  fair  Patriot  will  quit 
Paris  ;  yet  perhaps  only  to  return. 

But,  what  with  sorrow  of  balked  Patriotism,  what  with 
closed  theatres,  and  Proclamations  still  publishing  themselves 
by  sound  of  trumpet,  the  fervour  of  men's  minds,  this  day,  is 
great.  Nay,  over  and  above,  there  has  fallen  out  an  incident, 
of  the  nature  of  Farce-Tragedy  and  Riddle  ;  enough  to  stimu- 
late all  creatures.  Early  in  the  day,  a  Patriot  (or  some  say, 
it  was  a  Patriotess,  and  indeed  the  truth  is  undiscoverable), 
while  standing  on  the  firm  deal-board  of  Fatherland's  Altar, 
feels  suddenly,  with  indescribable  torpedo-shock  of  amazement, 
his  bootsole  pricked  through  from  below  ;  clutches  up  suddenly 
this  electrified  bootsole  and  foot ;  discerns  next  instant — the 
point  of  a  gimlet  or  bradawl  playing  up,  through  the  firm 
deal-board,  and  now  hastily  drawing  itself  back  !  Mystery, 
perhaps  Treason  ?  The  wooden  framework  is  impetuously 
broken  up  ;  and  behold,  verily  a  mystery ;  never  explicable 
fully  to  the  end  of  the  world !  Two  human  individuals,  of 
mean  aspect,  one  of  them  with  a  wooden  leg,  lie  ensconced 
there,  gimlet  in  hand :  they  must  have  come  in  overnight ; 
they  have  a  supply  of  provisions, — no  *  barrel  of  gunpowder ' 
that  one  can  see ;  they  affect  to  be  asleep ;  look  blank 
enough,  and  give  the  lamest  account  of  themselves.  *  Mere 
curiosity ;  they  were  boring  up,  to  get  an  eye-hole ;  to  see, 
perhaps  "  with  lubricity,"  whatsoever,  from  that  new  point  of 
vision,  could  be  seen ' : — little  that  was  edifying,  one  would 
think  !  But  indeed  what  stupidest  thing  may  not  human 
Dulness,  Pruriency,  Lubricity,  Chance  and  the  Devil,  choosing 
1  Madame  Roland,  ii.  74. 


192  VARENNES  [BK.  iv.  CH.  IX. 

Two  out  of  Half-a-million  idle  human  heads,  tempt  them 
to?1 

Sure  enough,  the  two  human  individuals  with  their  gimlet 
are  there.  Hi-starred  pair  of  individuals  !  For  the  result  of 
it  all  is,  that  Patriotism,  fretting  itself,  in  this  state  of  nervous 
excitability,  with  hypotheses,  suspicions  and  reports,  keeps 
questioning  these  two  distracted  human  individuals,  and  again 
questioning  them ;  claps  them  into  the  nearest  Guardhouse, 
clutches  them  out  again ;  one  hypothetic  group  snatching 
them  from  another :  till  finally,  in  such  extreme  state  of 
nervous  excitability,  Patriotism  hangs  them  as  spies  of  Sieur 
Motier;  and  the  life  and  secret  is  choked  out  of  them  for 
evermore.  For  evermore,  alas  !  Or  is  a  day  to  be  looked  for 
when  these  two  evidently  mean  individuals,  who  are  human 
nevertheless,  will  become  Historical  Riddles ;  and,  like  him  of 
the  Iron  Mask  (also  a  human  individual,  and  evidently  nothing 
more), — have  their  Dissertations  ?  To  us  this  only  is  certain, 
that  they  had  a  gimlet,  provisions,  and  a  wooden  leg  ;  and 
have  died  there  on  the  Lanterne,  as  the  unluckiest  fools  might 
die. 

And  so  the  signature  goes  on,  in  a  still  more  excited 
manner.  And  Chaumette,  for  Antiquarians  possess  the  very 
Paper  to  this  hour,2 — has  signed  himself  '  in  a  flowing  saucy 
hand  slightly  leaned ' ;  and  Hebert,  detestable  Pere  Duchesne, 
as  if  'an  inked  spider  had  dropped  on  the  paper';  Usher 
Maillard  also  has  signed,  and  many  Crosses,  which  cannot 
write.  And  Paris,  through  its  thousand  avenues,  is  welling 
to  the  Champ-de-Mars  and  from  it,  in  the  utmost  excitability 
of  humour ;  central  Fatherland's  Altar  quite  heaped  with 
signing  Patriots  and  Patriotesses  ;  the  Thirty  benches  and 
whole  internal  Space  crowded  with  onlookers,  with  comers 
and  goers ;  one  regurgitating  whirlpool  of  men  and  women 
hi  their  Sunday  clothes.  All  which  a  Constitutional  Sieur 
Motier  sees ;  and  Bailly,  looking  into  it  with  his  long  visage 
made  still  longer.  Auguring  no  good ;  perhaps  D£ch£a/nc« 
1  Hist.  Parl.  xi.  104-7.  *  •#*<£  *'•  I1[3»  etc- 


JULY  17,  1791]          SHARP    SHOT  193 

and  Deposition  after  all  !  Stop  it,  ye  Constitutional 
Patriots;  fire  itself  is  quenchable, — yet  only  quenchable  at 
first. 

Stop  it,  truly  :  but  how  stop  it  ?  Have  not  the  first  free 
People  of  the  Universe  a  right  to  petition  ? — Happily,  if  also 
unhappily,  here  is  one  proof  of  riot :  these  two  human  indi- 
viduals hanged  at  the  Lanterne.  Proof,  O  treacherous  Sieur 

o  * 

Metier  ?  Were  they  not  two  human  individuals  sent  thither 
by  thee  to  be  hanged ;  to  be  a  pretext  for  thy  bloody 
Drapeau  Rouge?  This  question  shall  many  a  Patriot,  one 
day,  ask ;  and  answer  affirmatively,  strong  in  Preternatural 
Suspicion. 

Enough,  towards  half-past  seven  in  the  evening,  the  mere 
natural  eye  can  behold  this  thing :  Sieur  Motier,  with  Muni- 
cipals in  scarf,  with  blue  National  Patrollotism,  rank  after 
rank,  to  the  clang  of  drums ;  wending  resolutely  to  the 
Champ-de-Mars ;  Mayor  Bailly,  with  elongated  visage,  bear- 
ing, as  in  sad  duty  bound,  the  Drapeau  Rouge.  Howl  of 
angry  derision  rises  in  treble  and  bass  from  a  hundred  thou- 
sand throats,  at  the  sight  of  Martial  Law ;  which  nevertheless, 
waving  its  Red  sanguinary  Flag,  advances  there,  from  the 
Gros-Caillou  Entrance ;  advances,  drumming  and  waving, 
towards  Altar  of  Fatherland.  Amid  still  wilder  howls,  with 
objurgation,  obtestation ;  with  flights  of  pebbles  and  mud, 
saxa  et  fasces ;  with  crackle  of  a  pistol-shot ; — finally  with 
volley-fire  of  Patrollotism  ;  levelled  muskets  ;  roll  of  volley  on 
volley  !  Precisely  after  one  year  and  three  days,  our  sublime 
Federation  Field  is  wetted,  in  this  manner,  with  French 
blood. 

Some  *  Twelve  unfortunately  shot,'  reports  Bailly,  counting 
by  units ;  but  Patriotism  counts  by  tens  and  even  by  hundreds. 
Not  to  be  forgotten,  nor  forgiven  !  Patriotism  flies,  shrieking, 
execrating.  Camille  ceases  journalising,  this  day ;  great 
Danton  with  Camille  and  Freron  have  taken  wing,  for  their 
life ;  Marat  burrows  deep  in  the  Earth,  and  is  silent  Once 

VOL.  II.  X 


194  VARENNES  [BK.  iv.  CH.  IX. 

more  Patrollotism  has  triumphed ;  one  other  time ;  but  it  is 
the  last. 

This  was  the  Royal  Flight  to  Varennes.  Thus  was  the 
Throne  overturned  thereby ;  but  thus  also  was  it  victoriously 
set  up  again — on  its  vertex ;  and  will  stand  while  it  can  be 
held. 


BOOK    FIFTH 
PARLIAMENT    FIRST 


CHAPTER   I 
GRANDE  ACCEPTATION 

IN  the  last  nights  of  September,  when  the  autumnal  equinox 
is  past,  and  grey  September  fades  into  brown  October,  why 
are  the  Champs  Elys^es  illuminated ;  why  is  Paris  dancing, 
and  flinging  fireworks?  They  are  gala-nights,  these  last  of 
September ;  Paris  may  well  dance,  and  the  Universe :  the 
Edifice  of  the  Constitution  is  completed !  Completed ;  nay 
revised,  to  see  that  there  was  nothing  insufficient  in  it; 
solemnly  proffered  to  his  Majesty ;  solemnly  accepted  by  him, 
to  the  sound  of  cannon-salvoes,  on  the  fourteenth  of  the 
month.  And  now  by  such  illumination,  jubilee,  dancing  and 
fire- working,  do  we  joyously  handsel  the  new  Social  Edifice, 
and  first  raise  heat  and  reek  there,  in  the  name  of  Hope. 

The  Revision,  especially  with  a  throne  standing  on  its 
vertex,  has  been  a  work  of  difficulty,  of  delicacy.  In  the  way 
of  propping  and  buttressing,  so  indispensable  now,  something 
could  be  done  ;  and  yet,  as  is  feared,  not  enough.  A  repentant 
Barnave  Triumvirate,  our  R&bauts,  Duports,  Thourets,  and 
indeed  all  Constitutional  Deputies  did  strain  every  nerve :  but 
the  Extreme  Left  was  so  noisy ;  the  People  were  so  suspicious, 
clamorous  to  have  the  work  ended :  and  then  the  loyal 
Right  Side  sat  feeble-petulant  all  the  while,  and  as  it  were 
pouting  and  petting ;  unable  to  help,  had  they  even  been 
willing.  The  Two  Hundred  and  Ninety  had  solemnly  made 


196  PARLIAMENT    FIRST       [BK.  v.  CH.  I. 

scission,  before  that,  and  departed,  shaking  the  dust  off  their 
feet.  To  such  transcendency  of  fret,  and  desperate  hope  that 
worsening  of  the  bad  might  the  sooner  end  it  and  bring  back 
the  good,  had  our  unfortunate  loyal  Right  Side  now  come ! l 

However,  one  finds  that  this  and  the  other  little  prop  has 
been  added,  where  possibility  allowed.  Civil-list  and  Privy- 
purse  were  from  of  old  well  cared  for.  King's  Constitutional 
Guard,  Eighteen  hundred  loyal  men  from  the  Eighty-three 
Departments,  under  a  loyal  Duke  de  Brissac ;  this,  with  trust- 
worthy Swiss  besides,  is  of  itself  something.  The  old  loyal 
Bodyguards  are  indeed  dissolved,  in  name  as  well  as  in  fact ; 
and  gone  mostly  towards  Coblentz.  But  now  also  those  Sans- 
culottic  violent  Gardes  Francaises,  or  Centre  Grenadiers,  shall 
have  their  mittimus :  they  do  ere  long,  in  the  Journals,  not 
without  a  hoarse  pathos,  publish  their  Farewell ;  '  wishing  all 
Aristocrats  the  graves  in  Paris  which  to  us  are  denied.'2 
They  depart,  these  first  Soldiers  of  the  Revolution;  they 
hover  very  dimly  in  the  distance  for  about  another  year ;  till 
they  can  be  remodelled,  new-named,  and  sent  to  fight  the 
Austrians ;  and  then  History  beholds  them  no  more.  A  most, 
notable  Corps  of  men  ;  which  has  its  place  in  World-History  ; 
— though  to  us,  so  is  History  written,  they  remain  mere 
rubrics  of  men ;  nameless ;  a  shaggy  Grenadier  Mass,  crossed 
with  buff-belts.  And  yet  might  we  not  ask :  What 
Argonauts,  what  Leonidas'  Spartans  had  done  such  a  work  ? 
Think  of  their  destiny :  since  that  May  morning,  some  three 
years  ago,  when  they,  unparticipating,  trundled  off  D'Espre- 
menil  to  the  Calypso  Isles ;  since  that  July  evening,  some  two 
years  ago,  when  they,  participating  and  sacrdng  with  knit 
brows,  poured  a  volley  into  BesenvaPs  Prince  de  Lambesc ! 
History  waves  them  her  mute  adieu. 

So  that  the  Sovereign  Power,  these  Sansculottic  Watch- 
dogs, more  like  wolves,  being  leashed  and  led  away  from  his 
Tuileries,  breathes  freer.  The  Sovereign  Power  is  guarded 
henceforth  by  a  loyal  Eighteen  Hundred, — whom  Contrivance, 
1  Toulongeon,  ii.  56,  59.  *  Hut.  Parl.  xiii.  73. 


SEPT.  14-18,  1791]     GRANDE   ACCEPTATION  197 

under  various  pretexts,  may  gradually  swell  to  Six  Thousand  ; 
who  will  hinder  no  journey  to  Saint-Cloud.  The  sad  Varennes 
business  has  been  soldered  up ;  cemented,  even  in  the  blood 
of  the  Champ-de-Mars,  these  two  months  and  more  ;  and 
indeed  ever  since,  as  formerly,  Majesty  has  had  its  privileges, 
its  *  choice  of  residence,'  though,  for  good  reasons,  the  royal 
mind  *  prefers  continuing  in  Paris.'  Poor  royal  mind,  poor 
Paris ;  that  have  to  go  mumming ;  enveloped  in  speciosities, 
in  falsehood  which  knows  itself  false ;  and  to  enact  mutually 
your  sorrowful  farce-tragedy,  being  bound  to  it ;  and  on  the 
whole,  to  hope  always,  in  spite  of  hope  ! 

Nay,  now  that  his  Majesty  has  accepted  the  Constitution, 
to  the  sound  of  cannon-salvoes,  who  would  not  hope  ?  Our 
good  King  was  misguided,  but  he  meant  well.  Lafayette  has 
moved  for  an  Amnesty,  for  universal  forgiving  and  forgetting 
of  Revolutionary  faults ;  and  now  surely  the  glorious  Revolu- 
tion, cleared  of  its  rubbish,  is  complete  !  Strange  enough, 
and  touching  in  several  ways,  the  old  cry  of  Vive  le  Roi  once 
more  rises  round  King  Louis  the  Hereditary  Representative. 
Their  Majesties  went  to  the  Opera ;  gave  money  to  the  Poor : 
the  Queen  herself,  now  when  the  Constitution  is  accepted, 
hears  voice  of  cheering.  Bygone  shall  be  bygone ;  the  New 
Era  shall  begin  !  To  and  fro,  amid  those  lamp-galaxies  of 
the  Elysian  Fields,  the  Royal  Carriage  slowly  wends  and  rolls ; 
everywhere  with  vivais,  from  a  multitude  striving  to  be  glad. 
Louis  looks  out,  mainly  on  the  variegated  lamps  and  gay 
human  groups,  with  satisfaction  enough  for  the  hour.  In  her 
Majesty's  face,  '  under  that  kind  graceful  smile  a  deep  sadness 
is  legible.'1  Brilliancies,  of  valour  and  of  wit,  stroll  here 
observant :  a  Dame  de  Stael,  leaning  most  probably  on  the 
arm  of  her  Narbonne.  She  meets  Deputies ;  who  have  built 
this  Constitution ;  who  saunter  here  with  vague  communings, 
not  without  thoughts  whether  it  will  stand.  But  as  yet 
melodious  fiddle-strings  twang  and  warble  everywhere,  with 
rhythm  of  light  fantastic  feet ;  long  lamp-galaxies  fling  their 
1  De  Stael,  Considerations,  i.  c.  23. 


198  PARLIAMENT   FIRST       [BK.  v.  CH.  I. 

coloured  radiance ;  and  brass-lunged  Hawkers  elbow  and  bawl, 
*  Grande  Acceptation,  Constitution  Monarchique ' :  it  behoves 
the  Son  of  Adam  to  hope.  Have  not  Lafayette,  Barnave, 
and  all  Constitutionalists  set  their  shoulders  handsomely  to 
the  inverted  pyramid  of  a  throne  ?  Feuillans,  including 
almost  the  whole  Constitutional  Respectability  of  France, 
perorate  nightly  from  their  tribune;  correspond  through  all 
Post-offices ;  denouncing  unquiet  Jacobinism ;  trusting  well 
that  its  time  is  nigh  done.  Much  is  uncertain,  questionable ; 
but  if  the  Hereditary  Representative  be  wise  and  lucky,  may 
one  not,  with  a  sanguine  Gaelic  temper,  hope  that  he  will  get 
in  motion  better  or  worse ;  that  what  is  wanting  to  him  will 
gradually  be  gained  and  added  ? 

For  the  rest,  as  we  must  repeat,  in  this  building  of  the  Con- 
stitutional Fabric,  especially  in  this  Revision  of  it,  nothing 
that  one  could  think  of  to  give  it  new  strength,  especially  to 
steady  it,  to  give  it  permanence,  and  even  eternity,  has  been 
forgotten.  Biennial  Parliament,  to  be  called  Legislative, 
AssembUe  Legislative ;  with  Seven  Hundred  and  Forty-five 
Members,  chosen  in  a  judicious  manner  by  the  '  active 
citizens'  alone,  and  even  by  electing  of  electors  still  more 
active :  this,  with  privileges  of  Parliament,  shall  meet,  self- 
authorised  if  need  be,  and  self-dissolved ;  shall  grant  money- 
supplies  and  talk ;  watch  over  the  administration  and  autho- 
rities ;  discharge  for  ever  the  functions  of  a  Constitutional 
Great  Council,  Collective  Wisdom  and  National  Palaver — as 
the  Heavens  will  enable.  Our  First  biennial  Parliament, 
which  indeed  has  been  a-choosing  since  early  in  August,  is 
now  as  good  as  chosen.  Nay  it  has  mostly  got  to  Paris  :  it 
arrived  gradually; — not  without  pathetic  greeting  to  its 
venerable  Parent,  the  now  moribund  Constituent;  and  sat 
there  in  the  Galleries,  reverently  listening;  ready  to  begin, 
the  instant  the  ground  were  clear. 

Then  as  to  changes  in  the  Constitution  itself?  This, 
impossible  for  any  Legislative,  or  common  biennial  Parliament, 
and  possible  solely  for  some  resuscitated  Constituent  or 


SEPT.  14-18,  1791]     GRANDE   ACCEPTATION  199 

National  Convention,  is  evidently  one  of  the  most  ticklish 
points.  The  august  moribund  Assembly  debated  it  for  four 
entire  days.  Some  thought  a  change,  or  at  least  a  reviewal 
and  new  approval,  might  be  admissible  in  thirty  years,  some 
even  went  lower,  down  to  twenty,  nay  to  fifteen.  The  august 
Assembly  had  once  decided  for  thirty  years ;  but  it  revoked 
that,  on  better  thoughts ;  and  did  not  fix  any  date  of  time, 
but  merely  some  vague  outline  of  a  posture  of  circumstances, 
and,  on  the  whole,  left  the  matter  hanging.1  Doubtless  a 
National  Convention  can  be  assembled  even  within  the  thirty 
years  :  yet  one  may  hope,  not ;  but  that  Legislatives,  biennial 
Parliaments  of  the  common  kind,  with  their  limited  faculty, 
and  perhaps  quiet  successive  additions  thereto,  may  suffice  for 
generations,  or  indeed  while  computed  Time  runs. 

Furthermore,  be  it  noted  that  no  member  of  this  Constitu- 
ent has  been,  or  could  be,  elected  to  the  new  Legislative.  So 
noble-minded  were  these  Law-makers  !  cry  some  :  and  Solon- 
like  would  banish  themselves.  So  splenetic  !  cry  more  :  each 
grudging  the  other,  none  daring  to  be  outdone  in  self-denial 
by  the  other.  So  unwise  in  either  case  !  answer  all  practical 
men.  But  consider  this  other  self-denying  ordinance,  That 
none  of  us  can  be  King's  Minister,  or  accept  the  smallest 
Court  Appointment,  for  the  space  of  four,  or  at  lowest  (and 
on  long  debate  and  Revision)  for  the  space  of  two  years  !  So 
moves  the  incorruptible  seagreen  Robespierre ;  with  cheap 
magnanimity  he ;  and  none  dare  be  outdone  by  him.  It  was 
such  a  law,  not  superfluous  then,  that  sent  Mirabeau  to  the 
gardens  of  Saint-Cloud,  under  cloak  of  darkness,  to  that 
colloquy  of  the  gods ;  and  thwarted  many  things.  Happily 
and  unhappily  there  is  no  Mirabeau  now  to  thwart 

Welcomer  meanwhile,  welcome  surely  to  all  right  hearts,  is 
Lafayette's  chivalrous  Amnesty.  Welcome  too  is  that  hard- 
wrung  Union  of  Avignon ;  which  has  cost  us,  first  and  last, 
*  thirty  sessions  of  debate,'  and  so  much  else :  may  it  at  length 
prove  lucky  !  Rousseau's  statue  is  decreed  :  virtuous  Jean- 

1  Choix  de  Rapports,  etc.  (Paris,  1825),  vi  239-317. 


200  PARLIAMENT    FIRST        [BK.  V.  CH.  1. 

Jacques,  Evangelist  of  the  Contrat  Social.  Not  Drouet  of 
Varennes ;  not  worthy  Lataille,  master  of  the  old  world- 
famous  Tennis- Court  in  Versailles,  is  forgotten  ;  but  each  has 
his  honourable  mention,  and  due  reward  in  money.1  Where- 
upon, things  being  all  so  neatly  winded  up,  and  the  Deputa- 
tions, and  Messages,  and  royal  and  other  ceremonials  having 
rustled  by ;  and  the  King  having  now  affectionately  perorated 
about  peace  and  tranquillisation,  and  members  having  answered 
*  Oui !  Oui ! '  with  effusion,  even  with  tears,  —  President 
Thouret,  he  of  the  Law  Reforms,  rises,  and,  with  a  strong 
voice,  utters  these  memorable  last- words  :  '  The  National  Con- 
stituent Assembly  declares  that  it  has  finished  its  mission ; 
and  that  its  sittings  are  all  ended.'  Incorruptible  Robespierre, 
virtuous  Petion  are  borne  home  on  the  shoulders  of  the 
people ;  with  vivats  heaven-high.  The  rest  glide  quietly  to 
their  respective  places  of  abode.  It  is  the  last  afternoon  of 
September  1791 ;  on  the  morrow  morning  the  new  Legisla- 
tive will  begin. 

So,  amid  glitter  of  illuminated  streets  and  Champs  Elysees, 
and  crackle  of  fireworks  and  glad  deray,  has  the  first  National 
Assembly  vanished ;  dissolving,  as  they  well  say,  into  blank 
Time ;  and  is  no  more.  National  Assembly  is  gone,  its  work 
remaining ;  as  all  Bodies  of  men  go,  and  as  man  himself  goes : 
it  had  its  beginning,  and  must  likewise  have  its  end.  A 
Phantasm-Reality  born  of  Time,  as  the  rest  of  us  are ;  flitting 
ever  backwards  now  on  the  tide  of  Time ;  to  be  long 
remembered  of  men.  Very  strange  Assemblages,  Sanhedrims, 
Amphictyonics,  Trades-Unions,  Ecumenic  Councils,  Parlia- 
ments and  Congresses,  have  met  together  on  this  Planet,  and 
dispersed  again ;  but  a  stranger  Assemblage  than  this  august 
Constituent,  or  with  a  stranger  mission,  perhaps  never  met  there. 
Seen  from  the  distance,  this  also  will  be  a  miracle.  Twelve 
Hundred  human  individuals,  with  the  Gospel  of  Jean-Jacques 
Rousseau  in  their  pocket,  congregating  in  the  name  of  Twenty- 
1  Monitcur  (in  Hist.  Parl.  xi.  473). 


SEPT.  30,  1791]     GRANDE    ACCEPTATION  201 

five  Millions,  with  full  assurance  of  faith,  to  'make  the 
Constitution  * :  such  sight,  the  acme  and  main  product  of  the 
Eighteenth  Century,  our  World  can  witness  once  only.  For 
Time  is  rich  in  wonders,  in  monstrosities  most  rich  ;  and  is 
observed  never  to  repeat  himself,  or  any  of  his  Gospels : — 
surely  least  of  all,  this  Gospel  according  to  Jean-Jacques. 
Once  it  was  right  and  indispensable,  since  such  had  become 
the  Belief  of  men  ;  but  once  also  is  enough. 

They  have  made  the  Constitution,  these  Twelve  Hundred 
Jean-Jacques  Evangelists ;  not  without  result.  Near  twenty- 
nine  months  they  sat,  with  various  fortune;  in  various 
capacity ; — always,  we  may  say,  in  that  capacity  of  car-borne 
Carroccio,  and  miraculous  Standard  of  the  Revolt  of  Men,  as 
a  Thing  high  and  lifted  up ;  whereon  whosoever  looked  might 
hope  healing.  They  have  seen  much,  cannons  levelled  on 
them ;  then  suddenly,  by  interposition  of  the  Powers,  the 
cannons  drawn  back ;  and  a  wargod  Broglie  vanishing,  in 
thunder  not  his  own,  amid  the  dust  and  downrushing  of  a 
Bastille  and  Old  Feudal  France.  They  have  suffered  some- 
what: Royal  Session,  with  rain  and  Oath  of  the  Tennis-Court; 
Nights  of  Pentecost;  Insurrections  of  Women.  Also  have 
they  not  done  somewhat?  Made  the  Constitution,  and 
managed  all  things  the  while ;  passed,  in  these  twenty-nine 
months,  *  twenty-five  hundred  Decrees,1  which  on  the  average 
is  some  three  for  each  day,  including  Sundays  !  Brevity,  one 
finds,  is  possible,  at  times :  had  not  Moreau  de  St.  Mery 
to  give  three  thousand  orders  before  rising  from  his  seat  ? — 
There  was  valour  (or  value)  in  these  men ;  and  a  kind  of 
faith,  were  it  only  faith  in  this,  That  cobwebs  are  not  cloth ; 
that  a  Constitution  could  be  made.  Cobwebs  and  chimeras 
ought  verily  to  disappear;  for  a  Reality  there  is.  Let 
formulas,  soul-killing,  and  now  grown  body-killing,  insupport- 
able, begone,  in  the  name  of  Heaven  and  Earth  ! — Time,  as  we 
say,  brought  forth  these  Twelve  Hundred ;  Eternity  was 
before  them,  Eternity  behind  :  they  worked,  as  we  all  do,  in 
the  confluence  of  Two  Eternities ;  what  work  was  given 


202  PARLIAMENT    FIRST        [BK.  v.  CH.  I. 

them.  Say  not  that  it  was  nothing  they  did.  Consciously 
they  did  somewhat ;  unconsciously  how  much !  They  had 
their  giants  and  their  dwarfs,  they  accomplished  their  good 
and  their  evil ;  they  are  gone,  and  return  no  more.  Shall 
they  not  go  with  our  blessing,  in  these  circumstances ;  with 
our  mild  farewell  ? 

By  post,  by  diligence,  on  saddle  or  sole ;  they  are  gone : 
towards  the  four  winds.  Not  a  few  over  the  marches,  to  rank 
at  Coblentz.  Thither  wended  Maury,  among  others;  but  in 
the  end  towards  Rome, — to  be  clothed  there  in  red  Cardinal 
plush  ;  in  falsehood  as  in  a  garment ;  pet  son  (her  last  born  ?) 
of  the  Scarlet  Woman.  Talleyrand-Perigord,  excommunicated 
Constitutional  Bishop,  will  make  his  way  to  London  :  to  be 
Ambassador,  spite  of  the  Self-denying  Law;  brisk  young 
Marquis  Chauvelin  acting  as  AmbassadorVCloak.  In  London 
too,  one  finds  Petion  the  virtuous  ;  harangued  and  haranguing, 
pledging  the  winecup  with  Constitutional  Reform-Clubs,  in 
solemn  tavern-dinner.  Incorruptible  Robespierre  retires  for  a 
little  to  native  Arras :  seven  short  weeks  of  quiet ;  the  last 
appointed  him  in  this  world.  Public  Accuser  in  the  Paris 
Department,  acknowledged  highpriest  of  the  Jacobins ;  the 
glass  of  incorruptible  thin  Patriotism,  for  his  narrow  emphasis 
is  loved  of  all  the  narrow, — this  man  seems  to  be  rising, 
somewhither  ?  He  sells  his  small  heritage  at  Arras  ;  accom- 
panied by  a  Brother  and  a  Sister,  he  returns,  scheming  out 
with  resolute  timidity  a  small  sure  destiny  for  himself  and 
them,  to  his  old  lodging,  at  the  Cabinet-maker's,  in  the  Rue 
St  Honore :  O  resolute-tremulous  incorruptible  sea-green  man, 
towards  what  a  destiny  ! 

Lafayette,  for  his  part,  will  lay  down  the  command.  He 
retires  Cincinnatus-like  to  his  hearth  and  farm;  but  soon 
leaves  them  again.  Our  National  Guard,  however,  shall 
henceforth  have  no  one  Commandant ;  but  all  Colonels  shall 
command  in  succession,  month  about.  Other  Deputies  we 
have  met,  or  Dame  de  Stael  has  met,  'sauntering  in  a 
thoughtful  manner ' ;  perhaps  uncertain  what  to  do.  Some, 


OCT.  1791]     THE    BOOK    OF    THE    LAW  203 

as  Barnave,  the  Lameths,  and  their  Duport,  will  continue  here 
in  Paris ;  watching  the  new  biennial  Legislative,  Parliament 
the  First ;  teaching  it  to  walk,  if  so  might  be ;  and  the  Court 
to  lead  it. 

Thus  these :  sauntering  in  a  thoughtful  manner ;  travel- 
ling by  post  or  diligence, — whither  Fate  beckons.  Giant 
Mirabeau  slumbers  in  the  Pantheon  of  Great  Men :  and 
France?  and  Europe? — -the  brass-lunged  Hawkers  sing  *  Grand 
Acceptation,  Monarchic  Constitution '  through  these  gay 
crowds  :  the  Morrow,  grandson  of  Yesterday,  must  be  what 
it  can,  as  Today  its  father  is.  Our  new  biennial  Legislative 
begins  to  constitute  itself  on  the  first  of  October  1791. 


CHAPTER    II 
THE   BOOK   OF  THE   LAW 

IF  the  august  Constituent  Assembly  itself,  fixing  the  regards 
of  the  Universe,  could,  at  the  present  distance  of  time  and 
place,  gain  comparatively  small  attention  from  us,  how  much 
less  can  this  poor  Legislative !  It  has  its  Right  Side  and  its 
Left ;  the  less  Patriotic  and  the  more,  for  Aristocrats  exist 
not  here  or  now :  it  spouts  and  speaks ;  listens  to  Reports, 
reads  Bills  and  Laws ;  works  in  its  vocation,  for  a  season  : 
but  the  History  of  France,  one  finds,  is  seldom  or  never  there. 
Unhappy  Legislative,  what  can  History  do  with  it;  if  not 
drop  a  tear  over  it,  almost  in  silence  ?  First  of  the  two-year 
Parliaments  of  France,  which,  if  Paper  Constitution  and  oft- 
repeated  National  Oath  could  avail  aught,  were  to  follow  in 
softly-strong  indissoluble  sequence  while  Time  ran, — it  had  to 
vanish  dolefully  within  one  year ;  and  there  came  no  second 
like  it.  Alas  !  your  biennial  Parliaments  in  endless  indis- 
soluble sequence ;  they,  and  all  that  Constitutional  Fabric, 
built  with  such  explosive  Federation  Oaths,  and  its  top-stone 
brought  out  with  dancing  and  variegated  radiance,  went  to 


204  PARLIAMENT    FIRST      [BK.  v.  CH.  II. 

pieces,  like  frail  crockery,  in  the  crash  of  things ;  and  already, 
in  eleven  short  months,  were  in  that  Limbo  near  the  Moon, 
with  the  ghosts  of  other  Chimeras.  There,  except  for  rare 
specific  purposes,  let  them  rest,  in  melancholy  peace. 

On  the  whole,  how  unknown  is  a  man  to  himself;  or  a 
public  Body  of  men  to  itself!  -^Esop's  fly  sat  on  the  chariot- 
wheel,  exclaiming,  What  a  dust  I  do  raise  !  Great  Governors, 
clad  in  purple  with  fasces  and  insignia,  are  governed  by  their 
valets,  by  the  pouting  of  their  women  and  children ;  or,  in 
Constitutional  countries,  by  the  paragraphs  of  their  Able 
Editors.  Say  not,  I  am  this  or  that ;  I  am  doing  this  or 
that !  For  thou  knowest  it  not,  thou  knowest  only  the  name 
it  as  yet  goes  by.  A  purple  Nebuchadnezzar  rejoices  to  feel 
himself  now  verily  Emperor  of  this  great  Babylon  which  he 
has  builded ;  and  is  a  nondescript  biped-quadruped,  on  the 
eve  of  a  seven-years  course  of  grazing  !  These  Seven  Hundred 
and  Forty-five  elected  individuals  doubt  not  but  they  are  the 
first  biennial  Parliament,  come  to  govern  France  by  parlia- 
mentary eloquence :  and  they  are  what  ?  And  they  have 
come  to  do  what  ?  Things  foolish  and  not  wise  ! 

It  is  much  lamented  by  many  that  this  First  Biennial  had 
no  members  of  the  old  Constituent  in  it,  with  their  experience 
of  parties  and  parliamentary  tactics ;  that  such  was  their 
foolish  Self-denying  Law.  Most  surely,  old  members  of  the 
Constituent  had  been  welcome  to  us  here.  But,  on  the  other 
hand,  what  old  or  what  new  members  of  any  Constituent  under 
the  Sun  could  have  effectually  profited?  There  are  first 
biennial  Parliaments  so  postured  as  to  be,  in  a  sense,  beyond 
wisdom ;  where  wisdom  and  folly  differ  only  in  degree,  and 
wreckage  and  dissolution  are  the  appointed  issue  for  both. 

Old-Constituents,  your  Barnaves,  Lameths,  and  the  like, 
for  whom  a  special  Gallery  has  been  set  apart,  where  they 
may  sit  in  honour  and  listen,  are  in  the  habit  of  sneering  at 
these  new  Legislators ; l  but  let  not  us !  The  poor  Seven 
Hundred  and  Forty-five,  sent  together  by  the  active  citizens 

1  Dumouriez,  ii.   150,  etc. 


OCT.  1791]     THE    BOOK    OF    THE    LAW  205 

of  France,  are  what  they  could  be ;  do  what  is  fated  them. 
That  they  are  of  Patriot  temper  we  can  well  understand. 
Aristocrat  Noblesse  had  fled  over  the  marches,  or  sat  brooding 
silent  in  their  unburnt  Chateaus  ;  small  prospect  had  they 
in  Primary  Electoral  Assemblies.  What  with  Flights  to 
Varennes,  what  with  Days  of  Poniards,  with  plot  after  plot, 
the  People  are  left  to  themselves ;  the  People  must  needs 
choose  Defenders  of  the  People,  such  as  can  be  had.  Choos- 
ing, as  they  also  will  ever  do,  *  if  not  the  ablest  man,  yet  the 
man  ablest  to  be  chosen ' !  Fervour  of  character,  decided 
Patriot-Constitutional  feeling ;  these  are  qualities :  but  free 
utterance,  mastership  in  tongue-fence ;  this  is  the  quality  of 
qualities.  Accordingly  one  finds,  with  little  astonishment,  in 
this  First  Biennial,  that  as  many  as  Four  hundred  Members 
are  of  the  Advocate  or  Attorney  species.  Men  who  can 
speak,  if  there  be  aught  to  speak :  nay  here  are  men  also  who 
can  think,  and  even  act.  Candour  will  say  of  this  ill-fated 
First  French  Parliament,  that  it  wanted  not  its  modicum  of 
talent,  its  modicum  of  honesty ;  that  it,  neither  in  the  one 
respect  nor  in  the  other,  sank  below  the  average  of  Parlia- 
ments, but  rose  above  the  average.  Let  average  Parliaments, 
whom  the  world  does  not  guillotine,  and  cast  forth  to  long 
infamy,  be  thankful  not  to  themselves  but  to  their  stars ! 

France,  as  we  say,  has  once  more  done  what  it  could :  fervid 
men  have  come  together  from  wide  separation ;  for  strange 
issues.  Fiery  Max  Isnard  is  come,  from  the  utmost  Southeast ; 
fiery  Claude  Fauchet,  Te-Deum  Fauchet  Bishop  of  Calvados, 
from  the  utmost  Northwest.  No  Mirabeau  now  sits  here,  who 
had  swallowed  formulas :  our  only  Mirabeau  now  is  Danton, 
working  as  yet  out  of  doors ;  whom  some  call  *  Mirabeau  of 
the  Sansculottes.' 

Nevertheless  we  have  our  gifts, — especially  of  speech  and 
logic.  An  eloquent  Vergniaud  we  have ;  most  mellifluous  yet 
most  impetuous  of  public  speakers ;  from  the  region  named 
Gironde,  of  the  Garonne  :  a  man  unfortunately  of  indolent 
habits;  who  will  sit  playing  with  your  children,  when  he 


206  PARLIAMENT    FIRST      [BK.  v.  CH.  n. 

ought  to  be  scheming  and  perorating.  Sharp-bustling  Guadet; 
considerate  grave  Gensonne' ;  kind-sparkling  mirthful  young 
Ducos  ;  Valaze*  doomed  to  a  sad  end  :  all  these  likewise  are  of 
that  Gironde  or  Bordeaux  region :  men  of  fervid  Constitu- 
tional principles ;  of  quick  talent,  irrefragable  logic,  clear 
respectability  ;  who  will  have  the  Reign  of  Liberty  establish 
itself,  but  only  by  respectable  methods.  Round  whom  others 
of  like  temper  will  gather ;  known  by  and  by  as  Girondins,  to 
the  sorrowing  wonder  of  the  world.  Of  which  sort  note  Con- 
dorcet,  Marquis  and  Philosopher ;  who  has  worked  at  much 
at  Paris  Municipal  Constitution,  Differential  Calculus,  News- 
paper Chroniqtie  de  Paris,  Biography,  Philosophy  ;  and  now 
sits  here  as  two-years  Senator  :  a  notable  Condorcet,  with 
stoical  Roman  face  and  fiery  heart;  'volcano  hid  under  snow'; 
styled  likewise,  in  irreverent  language,  *  mouton  enrage?  peace- 
ablest  of  creatures  bitten  rabid !  Or  note,  lastly,  Jean-Pierre 
Brissot ;  whom  Destiny,  long  working  noisily  with  him,  has 
hurled  hither,  say,  to  have  done  with  him.  A  biennial  Senator 
he  too  ;  nay,  for  the  present,  the  king  of  such.  Restless, 
scheming,  scribbling  Brissot ;  who  took  to  himself  the  style  de 
Warville,  heralds  know  not  in  the  least  why ; — unless  it  were 
that  the  father  of  him  did,  in  an  unexceptionable  manner, 
perform  Cookery  and  Vintnery  in  the  Village  of  Ouarville  ? 
A  man  of  the  windmill  species,  that  grinds  always,  turning 
towards  all  winds ;  not  in  the  steadiest  manner. 

In  all  these  men  there  is  talent,  faculty  to  work ;  and  they 
will  do  it :  working  and  shaping,  not  without  effect,  though 
alas  not  in  marble,  only  in  quicksand ! — But  the  highest  faculty 
of  them  all  remains  yet  to  be  mentioned ;  or  indeed  has  yet 
to  unfold  itself  for  mention  :  Captain  Hippolyte  Carnot,  sent 
hither  from  the  Pas  de  Calais ;  with  his  cold  mathematical 
head,  and  silent  stubbornness  of  will :  iron  Carnot,  far-plan- 
ning,  imperturbable,  unconquerable  ;  who,  in  the  hour  of  need, 
shall  not  be  found  wanting.  His  hair  is  yet  black ;  and  it 
shall  grow  grey,  under  many  kinds  of  fortune,  bright  and 
troublous ;  and  with  iron  aspect,  this  man  shall  face  them  all. 


OCT.  1791]     THE    BOOK    OF    THE    LAW  207 

Nor  is  Cote  Droit,  and  band  of  King's  friend* ,  wanting : 
Vaublanc,  Dumas,  Jaucourt  the  honoured  Chevalier ;  who  love 
Liberty,  yet  with  Monarchy  over  it;  and  speak  fearlessly 
according  to  that  faith ; — whom  the  thick-coming  hurricanes 
will  t>weep  away.  With  them  let  a  new  military  Theodore 
Lameth  be  named ; — were  it  only  for  his  two  Brothers'*  sake, 
who  look  down  on  him,  approvingly  there,  from  the  Old-Con- 
stituents1 Gallery.  Frothy  professing  Pastorets,  honey-mouthed 
conciliatory  Lamourettes,  and  speechless  nameless  individuals 
sit  plentiful,  as  Moderates,  in  the  middle.  Still  less  is  a  Cote 
Gauche  wanting:  extreme  Left;  sitting  on  the  topmost  benches, 
as  if  aloft  on  its  speculatory  Height  or  Mountain,  which  will 
become  a  practical  fulminatory  Height,  and  make  the  name  of 
Mountain  famous-infamous  to  all  times  and  lands. 

Honour  waits  not  on  this  Mountain ;  nor  as  yet  even  loud 
dishonour.  Gifts  it  boasts  not,  nor  graces,  of  speaking  or  of 
thinking;  solely  this  one  gift  of  assured  faith,  of  audacity  that 
will  defy  the  Earth  and  the  Heavens.  Foremost  here  are 
the  Cordelier  Trio :  hot  Merlin  from  Thionville,  hot  Bazaire, 
Attorneys  both ;  Chabot,  disfrocked  Capuchin,  skilful  in 
agio.  Lawyer  Lacroix,  who  wore  once  as  subaltern  the  single 
epaulette,  has  loud  lungs  and  a  hungry  heart.  There  too  is 
Couthon,  little  dreaming  what  he  is ; — whom  a  sad  chance  has 
paralysed  in  the  lower  extremities.  For,  it  seems,  he  sat  once 
a  whole  night,  not  warm  in  his  true-love's  bower  (who  indeed 
was  by  law  another's),  but  sunken  to  the  middle  in  a  cold 
peat-bog,  being  hunted  out  from  her ;  quaking  for  his  life,  in 
the  cold  quaking  morass  ;*  and  goes  now  on  crutches  to  the 
end.  Cainbon  likewise,  in  whom  slumbers  undeveloped  such 
a  finance- talent  for  printing  of  Assignats ;  Father  of  Paper- 
money  ;  who,  in  the  hour  of  menace,  shall  utter  this  stern 
sentence,  *  War  to  the  Manor-house,  peace  to  the  Hut,  Guerre 
aux  Chateaux,  pair  aux  Chaumierea  ! '  *  Lecointre,  the  intrepid 
Draper  of  Versailles,  is  welcome  here ;  known  since  the  Opera- 
Repast  and  Insurrection  of  Women.  Thuriot  too ;  Elector 

1  Dumouriez,  ii.  370.  *  Choi*  <b  Rapport^  xi.  25. 


208  PARLIAMENT    FIRST      [BK.  v.  CH.  li. 

Thuriot,  who  stood  in  the  embrasures  of  the  Bastille,  and  saw 
Saint- Antoine  rising  in  mass  ;  who  has  many  other  things  to 
see.  Last  and  grimmest  of  all,  note  old  Ruhl,  with  his  brown 
dusky  face  and  long  white  hair ;  of  Alsatian  Lutheran  breed ; 
a  man  whom  age  and  book-learning  have  not  taught ;  who, 
haranguing  the  old  men  of  Rheims,  shall  hold  up  the  Sacred 
Ampulla  (Heaven-sent,  wherefrom  Clovis  and  all  Kings  have 
been  anointed)  as  a  mere  worthless  oil-bottle,  and  dash  it  to 
sherds  on  the  pavement  there ;  who,  alas,  shall  dash  much  to 
sherds,  and  finally  his  own  wild  head  by  pistol-shot,  and  so 
end  it. 

Such  lava  welters  redhot  in  the  bowels  of  this  Mountain ; 
unknown  to  the  world  and  to  itself !  A  mere  commonplace 
Mountain  hitherto ;  distinguished  from  the  Plain  chiefly  by 
its  superior  barrenness,  its  baldness  of  look :  at  the  utmost  it 
may,  to  the  most  observant,  perceptibly  smoke.  For  as  yet 
all  lies  so  solid,  peaceable ;  and  doubts  not,  as  was  said,  that 
it  will  endure  while  Time  runs.  Do  not  all  love  Liberty 
and  the  Constitution  ?  All  heartily  ; — and  yet  with  degrees. 
Some,  as  Chevalier  Jaucourt  and  his  Right  Side,  may  love 
Liberty  less  than  Royalty,  were  the  trial  made ;  others,  as 
Brissot  and  his  Left  Side,  may  love  it  more  than  Royalty. 
Nay  again,  of  these  latter  some  may  love  Liberty  more  than 
Law  itself ;  others  not  more.  Parties  will  unfold  themselves  ; 
no  mortal  as  yet  knows  how.  Forces  work  within  these  men 
and  without :  dissidence  grows  opposition ;  ever  widening ; 
waxing  into  incompatibility  and  internecine  feud;  till  the 
strong  is  abolished  by  a  stronger ;  himself  in  his  turn  by  a 
strongest !  Who  can  help  it  ?  Jaucourt  and  his  Monarch- 
ists, Feuillans,  or  Moderates ;  Brissot  and  his  Brissotins, 
Jacobins,  or  Girondins ;  these,  with  the  Cordelier  Trio,  and 
all  men,  must  work  what  is  appointed  them,  and  in  the  way 
appointed  them. 

And  to  think  what  fate  these  poor  Seven  Hundred  and 
Forty-five  are  assembled,  most  unwittingly,  to  meet !  Let  no 
heart  be  so  hard  as  not  to  pity  them.  Their  souls'  wish  was 


I79i]  THE    BOOK    OF    THE    LAW  209 

to  live  and  work  as  the  First  of  the  French  Parliaments; 
and  make  the  Constitution  march.  Did  they  not,  at  their 
very  instalment,  go  through  the  most  affecting  Constitutional 
ceremony,  almost  with  tears  ?  The  Twelve  eldest  are  sent 
solemnly  to  fetch  the  Constitution  itself,  the  printed  Book  of 
the  Law.  Archivist  Camus,  an  Old-Constituent  appointed 
Archivist,  he  and  the  Ancient  Twelve,  amid  blare  of  military 
pomp  and  clangour,  enter,  bearing  the  divine  Book :  and 
President  and  all  Legislative  Senators,  laying  their  hand  on 
the  same,  successively  take  the  Oath,  with  cheers  and  heart- 
effusion,  universal  three-times-three.1  In  this  manner  they 
begin  their  Session.  Unhappy  mortals  !  For,  that  same  day, 
his  Majesty  having  received  their  Deputation  of  welcome,  as 
seemed,  rather  drily,  the  Deputation  cannot  but  feel  slighted, 
cannot  but  lament  such  slight :  and  thereupon  our  cheering 
swearing  First  Parliament  sees  itself,  on  the  morrow,  obliged 
to  explode  into  fierce  retaliatory  sputter  of  anti-royal  Enact- 
ment as  to  how  they,  for  their  part,  will  receive  Majesty ;  and 
how  Majesty  shall  not  be  called  Sire  any  more,  except  they 
please :  and  then,  on  the  following  day,  to  recall  this  Enact- 
ment of  theirs,  as  too  hasty,  and  a  mere  sputter,  though  not 
unprovoked* 

An  effervescent  well-intentioned  set  of  Senators  ;  too  com- 
bustible, where  continual  sparks  are  flying !  Their  History  is 
a  series  of  sputters  and  quarrels ;  true  desire  to  do  their 
function,  fatal  impossibility  to  do  it.  Denunciations,  repri- 
mandings  of  King's  Ministers,  of  traitors  supposed  and  real ; 
hot  rage  and  fulmination  against  fulminating  Emigrants ; 
terror  of  Austrian  Kaiser,  of  *  Austrian  Committee '  in  the 
Tuileries  itself;  rage  and  haunting  terror,  haste  and  doubt 
and  dim  bewilderment ! — Haste,  we  say ;  and  yet  the  Consti- 
tution had  provided  against  haste.  No  Bill  can  be  passed  till 
it  have  been  printed,  till  it  have  been  thrice  read,  with 
intervals  of  eight  days ; — *  unless  the  Assembly  shall  before- 
hand decree  that  there  is  urgency.'*  Which,  accordingly  the 
1  Moniteur,  Seance  du  4  Octobre  1791. 

VOL.  n.  o 


310  PARLIAMENT    FIRST      [BK.  v.  CH.  ii. 

Assembly,  scrupulous  of  the  Constitution,  never  omits  to  do : 
Considering  this,  and  also  considering  that,  and  then  that 
other,  the  Assembly  decrees  always  '  qitil  y  a  urgence ' ;  and 
thereupon  *  the  Assembly,  having  decreed  that  there  is 
urgence,'  is  free  to  decree  —  what  indispensable  distracted 
thing  seems  best  to  it.  Two  thousand  and  odd  decrees,  as 
men  reckon,  within  Eleven  months  ! l  The  haste  of  the  Con- 
stituent seemed  great ;  but  this  is  treble-quick.  For  the  time 
itself  is  rushing  treble-quick;  and  they  have  to  keep  pace 
with  that.  Unhappy  Seven  Hundred  and  Forty-five :  true- 
patriotic,  but  so  combustible  ;  being  fired,  they  must  needs 
fling  fire :  Senate  of  touchwood  and  rockets,  in  a  world  of 
smoke-storm,  with  sparks  wind-driven  continually  flying ! 

Or  think,  on  the  other  hand,  looking  forward  some  months, 
of  that  scene  they  call  Baiser  de  Lamourette!  The  dangers 
of  the  country  are  now  grown  imminent,  immeasurable ; 
National  Assembly,  hope  of  France,  is  divided  against  itself. 
In  such  extreme  circumstances,  honey-mouthed  Abbe  Lamou- 
rette, new  Bishop  of  Lyons,  rises,  whose  name,  Tamourette, 
signifies  the  sweetheart,  or  Delilah  doxy, — he  rises,  and,  with 
pathetic  honeyed  eloquence,  calls  on  all  august  Senators  to 
forget  mutual  griefs  and  grudges,  to  swear  a  new  oath,  and 
unite  as  brothers.  Whereupon  they  all,  with  vivats,  embrace 
and  swear ;  Left  Side  confounding  itself  with  Right ;  barren 
Mountain  rushing  down  to  fruitful  Plain,  Pastoret  into  the 
arms  of  Condorcet,  injured  to  the  breast  of  injurer,  with  tears  : 
.  and  all  swearing  that  whosoever  wishes  either  Feuillant  Two- 
Chamber  Monarchy  or  Extreme-Jacobin  Republic,  or  any 
thing  but  the  Constitution  and  that  only,  shall  be  anathema 
maranatha.2  Touching  to  behold !  For,  literally  on  the 
morrow  morning,  they  must  again  quarrel,  driven  by  Fate ; 
and  their  sublime  reconcilement  is  called  derisively  the  Baiser 
de  Lamourette^  or  Delilah  Kiss. 

Like  fated  Eteocles-Polynices  Brothers,  embracing,  though 

1  Montgaillard,  iii.  I,  237. 

2  Moniteur,  Stance  du  6  Juillet  1792. 


1789-91]  AVIGNON  211 

in  vain  ;  weeping  that  they  must  not  love,  that  they  must 
hate  only,  and  die  by  each  other's  hands !  Or  say,  like 
doomed  Familiar  Spirits ;  ordered,  by  Art  Magic  under 
penalties,  to  do  a  harder  than  twist  ropes  of  sand  :  *  to  make 
the  Constitution  march.'  If  the  Constitution  would  but 
march !  Alas,  the  Constitution  will  not  stir.  It  falls  on  its 
face  ;  they  tremblingly  lift  it  on  end  again  :  march,  thou  gold 
Constitution  !  The  Constitution  will  not  march. — *  He  shall 

march,  by ! '    said  kind  Uncle  Toby,  and  even  swore. 

The  Corporal  answered  mournfully  :  *  He  will  never  march  in 
this  world.1 

A  Constitution,  as  we  often  say,  will  march  when  it  images, 
if  not  the  old  Habits  and  Beliefs  of  the  Constituted,  then 
accurately  their  Rights,  or  better  indeed  their  Mights ; — for 
these  two,  well  understood,  are  they  not  one  and  the  same  ? 
The  old  Habits  of  France  are  gone :  her  new  Rights  and 
Mights  are  not  yet  ascertained,  except  in  Paper-theorem  ;  nor 
can  be,  in  any  sort,  till  she  have  tried.  Till  she  have  measured 
herself,  in  fell  death-grip,  and  were  it  in  utmost  preternatural 
spasm  of  madness,  with  Principalities  and  Powers,  with  the 
upper  and  the  under,  internal  and  external ;  with  the  Earth 
and  Tophet  and  the  very  Heaven !  Then  will  she  know. — 
Three  things  bode  ill  for  the  marching  of  this  French  Consti- 
tution :  the  French  People ;  the  French  King ;  thirdly,  the 
French  Noblesse  and  an  assembled  European  World. 


CHAPTER   III 
AVIGNON. 

Bur  quitting  generalities,  what  strange  Fact  is  this,  in  the 
far  Southwest,  towards  which  the  eyes  of  all  men  do  now,  in 
the  end  of  October,  bend  themselves  ?  A  tragical  combus- 
tion, long  smoking  and  smouldering  unluminous,  has  now 
burst  into  flame  there. 


212  PARLIAMENT    FIRST     [BK.  v.  CH.  IIL. 

Hot  is  that  Southern  Provencal  blood  :  alas,  collisions,  as 
was  once  said,  must  occur  in  a  career  of  Freedom ;  different 
directions  will  produce  such ;  nay  different  velocities  in  the 
same  direction  will !  To  much  that  went  on  there,  History, 
busied  elsewhere,  would  not  specially  give  heed :  to  troubles 
of  Uzez,  troubles  of  Nismes,  Protestant  and  Catholic,  Patriot 
and  Aristocrat ;  to  troubles  of  Marseilles,  Montpellier,  Aries  ; 
to  Aristocrat  Camp  of  Jales,  that  wondrous  real-imaginary 
Entity,  now  fading  pale-dim,  then  always  again  glowing  forth 
deep-hued  (in  the  imagination  mainly) ; — ominous  magical, 
*  an  Aristocrat  picture  of  war  done  naturally ' !  All  this 
was  a  tragical  deadly  combustion,  with  plot  and  riot, 
tumult  by  night  and  by  day ;  but  a  dark  combustion  not 
luminous,  not  noticed;  which  now,  however,  one  cannot  help 
noticing. 

Above  all  places,  the  unluminous  combustion  in  Avignon 
and  the  Comtat  Venaissin  was  fierce.  Papal  Avignon,  with 
its  Castle  rising  sheer  over  the  Rhone-stream ;  beautifulest 
Town,  with  its  purple  vines  and  gold-orange  groves  ;  why  must 
foolish  old  rhyming  Rene,  the  last  Sovereign  of  Provence, 
bequeath  it  to  the  Pope  and  Gold  Tiara,  not  rather  to 
Louis  Eleventh  with  the  Leaden  Virgin  in  his  hatband  ?  For 
good  and  for  evil !  Popes,  Antipopes,  with  their  pomp,  have 
dwelt  in  that  Castle  of  Avignon  rising  sheer  over  the  Rhone- 
stream  :  there  Laura  de  Sade  went  to  hear  mass;  her  Petrarch 
twanging  and  singing  by  the  Fountain  of  Vaucluse  hard  by, 
surely  in  a  most  melancholy  manner.  This  was  in  the  old 
days. 

And  now  in  these  now  days  such  issues  do  come  from  a 
squirt  of  the  pen  by  some  foolish  rhyming  Rene,  after 
centuries, — this  is  what  we  have :  Jourdan  Coupe-tete,  leading 
to  siege  and  warfare  an  Army,  from  three  to  fifteen  thousand 
strong,  called  the  Brigands  of  Avignon ;  which  title  they 
themselves  accept,  with  the  addition  of  an  epithet,  <  The 
brave  Brigands  of  Avignon  ! '  It  is  even  so.  Jourdan  the 


1789-91]  AVIGNON  «13 

Headsman  fled  hither  from  that  Chatelet  Inquest,  from  that 
Insurrection  of  Women ;  and  began  dealing  in  madder :  but 
the  scene  was  rife  in  other  than  dye-stuffs ;  so  Jourdan  shut 
his  madder-shop,  and  has  risen,  for  he  was  the  man  to  do  it. 
The  tile-beard  of  Jourdan  is  shaven  off;  his  fat  visage  has 
got  coppered  and  studded  with  black  carbuncles ;  the  Silenus 
trunk  is  swollen  with  drink  and  high  living :  he  wears  blue 
National  uniform  with  epaulettes,  *  an  enormous  sabre,  two 
horse-pistols  crossed  in  his  belt,  and  other  two  smaller  stick- 
ing from  his  pockets ' ;  styles  himself  General,  and  is  the 
tyrant  of  men.1  Consider  this  one  fact,  O  Reader ;  and  what 
sort  of  facts  must  have  preceded  it,  must  accompany  it !  Such 
things  come  of  old  Rene ;  and  of  the  question  which  has  risen, 
Whether  Avignon  cannot  now  cease  wholly  to  be  Papal,  and 
oecome  French  and  free  ? 

For  some  twenty-five  months  the  confusion  has  lasted.  Say 
three  months  of  arguing ;  then  seven  of  raging ;  then  finally 
some  fifteen  months  now  of  fighting,  and  even  of  hanging. 
For  already  hi  February  1790,  the  Papal  Aristocrats  had  set 
up  four  gibbets,  for  a  sign ;  but  the  People  rose  in  June,  in 
retributive  frenzy ;  and,  forcing  the  public  Hangman  to  act, 
hanged  four  Aristocrats,  on  each  Papal  gibbet  a  Papal 
Hainan.  Then  were  Avignon  Emigrations,  Papal  Aristocrats 
emigrating  over  the  Rhone  River ;  demission  of  Papal  Consul, 
flight,  victory :  reentrance  of  Papal  Legate,  truce,  and  new 
onslaught ;  and  the  various  turns  of  war.  Petitions  there 
were  to  National  Assembly ;  Congresses  of  Townships ;  three- 
score and  odd  Townships  voting  for  French  Reunion  and 
the  blessings  of  Liberty ;  while  some  twelve  of  the  smaller, 
manipulated  by  Aristocrats,  gave  vote  the  other  way :  with 
shrieks  and  discord !  Township  against  Township,  Town 
against  Town :  Carpentras,  long  jealous  of  Avignon,  is  now 
turned  out  in  open  war  with  it ; — and  Jourdan  Coupe-t&e, 
your  first  General  being  killed  hi  mutiny,  closes  his  dye-shop ; 
and  does  there  visibly,  with  siege-artillery,  above  all  with 

1  Dampmartin,  Eventmem,  i.  267. 


214  PARLIAMENT    FIRST     [BK.  v.  CH.  111, 

bluster  and  tumult,  with  the  *  brave  Brigands  of  Avignon,"1 
beleaguer  the  rival  Town,  for  two  months,  in  the  face  of  the 
world. 

Feats  were  done,  doubt  it  not,  far-famed  in  Parish  History ; 
but  to  Universal  History  unknown.  Gibbets  we  see  rise,  on 
the  one  side  and  on  the  other ;  and  wretched  carcasses  swing- 
ing there,  a  dozen  in  the  row;  wretched  Mayor  of  Vaison 
buried  before  dead.1  The  fruitful  seedfields  lie  unreaped,  the 
vineyards  trampled  down ;  there  is  red  cruelty,  madness  of 
universal  choler  and  gall.  Havoc  and  anarchy  everywhere ;  a 
combustion  most  fierce,  but  wwlucent,  not  to  be  noticed  here  ! 
— Finally,  as  we  saw,  on  the  14th  of  September  last,  the 
National  Constituent  Assembly, — having  sent  Commissioners 
and  heard  them ; 2  having  heard  Petitions,  held  Debates, 
month  after  month  ever  since  August  1789 ;  and  on  the 
whole  '  spent  thirty  sittings '  on  this  matter, — did  solemnly 
decree  that  Avignon  and  the  Comtat  were  incorporated  with 
France,  and  his  Holiness  the  Pope  should  have  what  indemnity 
was  reasonable. 

And  so  hereby  all  is  amnestied  and  finished  ?  Alas,  when 
madness  of  choler  has  gone  through  the  blood  of  men,  and 
gibbets  have  swung  on  this  side  and  on  that,  what  will  a 
parchment  Decree  and  Lafayette  Amnesty  do  ?  Oblivious 
Lethe  flows  not  above  ground  !  Papal  Aristocrats  and  Patriot 
Brigands  are  still  an  eye-sorrow  to  each  other;  suspected, 
suspicious,  in  what  they  do  and  forbear.  The  august  Con- 
stituent Assembly  is  gone  but  a  fortnight,  when,  on  Sunday 
the  Sixteenth  morning  of  October  1791,  the  unquenched 
combustion  suddenly  becomes  luminous.  For  Anti-constitu- 
tional Placards  are  up,  and  the  Statue  of  the  Virgin  is  said 
to  have  shed  tears,  and  grown  red.3  Wherefore,  on  that 

1  Barbaroux,  Mtmoires,  p.  26. 

1  Lescene  Desmaisons,  Comfte  rendu  a  tAssemblle  Nationale,  10  September 
1791  (Choix  des  Rapports,  vii.  273-93). 
»  Prods-verbal  de  la  Commune  (T Avignon,  etc.  (in  Hist.  Parl.  xii.  419-23). 


NOV.  1791]  AVIGNON  215 

morning,  Patriot  FEscuyer,  one  of  our  *  six  leading  Patriots,1 
having  taken  counsel  with  his  brethren  and  General  Jourdan, 
determines  on  going  to  Church,  in  company  with  a  friend  or 
two :  not  to  hear  mass,  which  he  values  little ;  but  to  meet 
all  the  Papalists  there  in  a  body,  nay  to  meet  that  same 
weeping  Virgin,  for  it  is  the  Cordeliers  Church ;  and  give 
them  a  word  of  admonition.  Adventurous  errand  ;  which 
has  the  fatalest  issue  !  What  L'Escuyer's  word  of  admonition 
might  be,  no  History  records;  but  the  answer  to  it  was  a 
shrieking  howl  from  the  Aristocrat  Papal  worshippers,  many 
of  them  women.  A  thousand- voiced  shriek  and  menace;  which, 
as  L'Escuyer  did  not  fly,  became  a  thousand-handed  hustle 
and  jostle;  a  thousand-footed  kick,  with  tumblings  and 
tramplings,  with  the  pricking  of  sempstress  stilettoes,  scissors 
and  female  pointed  instruments.  Horrible  to  behold ;  the 
ancient  Dead,  and  Petrarchan  Laura,  sleeping  round  it  there  r1 
high  Altar  and  burning  tapers  looking  down  on  it ;  the  Virgin 
quite  tearless,  and  of  the  natural  stone-colour ! — L'Escuyer's 
friend  or  two  rush  off,  like  Job's  Messengers,  for  Jourdan 
and  the  National  Force.  But  heavy  Jourdan  will  seize  the 
Town-Gates  first ;  does  not  run  treble-fast,  as  he  might : 
on  arriving  at  the  Cordeliers  Church,  the  Church  is  silent, 
vacant ;  L'Escuyer,  all  alone,  lies  there,  swimming  in  his 
blood,  at  the  foot  of  the  high  Altar;  pricked  with  scissors, 
trodden,  massacred ; — gives  one  dumb  sob,  and  gasps  out  his 
miserable  life  for  evermore. 

Sight  to  stir  the  heart  of  any  man  ;  much  more  of  many 
men,  self-styled  Brigands  of  Avignon !  The  corpse  of  L'Escuyer, 
stretched  on  a  bier,  the  ghastly  head  girt  with  laurel,  is  borne 
through  the  streets  ;  with  many-voiced  unmelodious  Nenia ; 
funeral-wail  still  deeper  than  it  is  loud  !  The  copper-face 
of  Jourdan,  of  bereft  Patriotism,  has  grown  black.  Patriot 
Municipality  despatches  official  Narrative  and  tidings  to  Paris ; 
orders  numerous  and  innumerable  arrestments  for  inquest  and 
perquisition.  Aristocrats  male  and  female  are  haled  to  the 
1  Ugo  Foscolo,  Essay  on  Pttrarck,  p.  35. 


216  PARLIAMENT    FIRST     [BK.  v.  CH.  ill. 

Castle  ;  lie  crowded  in  subterranean  dungeons  there,  bemoaned 
by  the  hoarse  rushing  of  the  Rhone  ;  cut  out  from  help. 

So  lie  they ;  waiting  inquest  and  perquisition.  Alas,  with 
a  Jourdan  Headsman  for  Generalissimo,  with  his  copper-face 
grown  black,  and  armed  Brigand  Patriots  chanting  their 
Nenia,  the  inquest  is  likely  to  be  brief.  On  the  next  day  and 
the  next,  let  Municipality  consent  or  not,  a  Brigand  Court- 
Martial  establishes  itself  in  the  subterranean  storeys  of  the 
Castle  of  Avignon ;  Brigand  Executioners,  with  naked  sabre, 
waiting  at  the  door  for  a  Brigand  verdict.  Short  judgment, 
no  appeal  !  There  is  Brigand  wrath  and  vengeance ;  not 
unrefreshed  by  brandy.  Close  by  is  the  Dungeon  of  the 
Gladere,  or  Ice-Tower:  there  may  be  deeds  done — ?  For 
which  language  has  no  name ! — Darkness  and  the  shadow  of 
horrid  cruelty  envelops  these  Castle  Dungeons,  that  Glaeiere 
Tower :  clear  only  that  many  have  entered,  that  few  have 
returned.  Jourdan  and  the  Brigands,  supreme  now  over 
Municipals,  over  all  authorities  Patriot  or  Papal,  reign  in 
Avignon,  waited  on  by  Terror  and  Silence. 

The  result  of  all  which  is,  that,  on  the  15th  of  November 
1791,  we  behold  friend  Dampmartin,  and  subalterns  beneath 
him,  and  General  Choisi  above  him,  with  Infantry  and  Cavalry, 
and  proper  cannon-carriages  rattling  in  front,  with  spread 
banners,  to  the  sound  of  fife  and  drum,  wend,  in  a  deliberate 
formidable  manner,  towards  that  sheer  Castle  Rock,  towards 
those  broad  Gates  of  Avignon ;  three  new  National-Assembly 
Commissioners  following  at  safe  distance  in  the  rear.1  Avignon, 
summoned  in  the  name  of  Assembly  and  Law,  flings  its  Gates 
wide  open ;  Choisi  with  the  rest,  Dampmartin  and  the  '  Eons 
Enfans,  Good  Boys,  of  BaufremontJ — so  they  name  these 
brave  Constitutional  Dragoons,  known  to  them  of  old, — do 
enter,  amid  shouts  and  scattered  flowers.  To  the  joy  of  all 
honest  persons ;  to  the  terror  only  of  Jourdan  Headsman 
and  the  Brigands.  Nay  next  we  behold  carbuncled  swollen 
Jourdan  himself  show  copper-face,  with  sabre  and  four  pistols  ; 

1  Dampmartin,  i.  251-94. 


NOV.  1791]  AVIGNON  217 

affecting  to  talk  high  ;  engaging,  meanwhile,  to  surrender  the 
Castle  that  instant.  So  the  Choisi  Grenadiers  enter  with  him 
there.  They  start  and  stop,  passing  that  Glaciere,  snuffing 
its  horrible  breath ;  with  wild  yell,  with  cries  of  *  Cut  the 
Butcher  down  ! ' — and  Jourdan  has  to  whisk  himself  through 
secret  passages,  and  instantaneously  vanish. 

Be  the  mystery  of  iniquity  laid  bare,  then  !  A  Hundred 
and  Thirty  Corpses,  of  men,  nay  of  women  and  even  children 
(for  the  trembling  mother,  hastily  seized,  could  not  leave  her 
infant),  lie  heaped  in  that  Glaciere ;  putrid,  under  putridities  : 
the  horror  of  the  world.  For  three  days  there  is  mournful 
lifting  out,  and  recognition ;  amid  the  cries  and  movements 
of  a  passionate  Southern  people,  now  kneeling  in  prayer,  now 
storming  in  wild  pity  and  rage  :  lastly  there  is  solemn  sepul- 
ture, with  muffled  drums,  religious  requiem,  and  all  the 
people's  wail  and  tears.  Their  Massacred  rest  now  in  holy 
ground  ;  buried  in  one  grave. 

And  Jourdan  Coupe-tele  ?  Him  also  we  behold  again,  after 
a  day  or  two  :  in  flight,  through  the  most  romantic  Petrarchan 
hill-country;  vehemently  spurring  his  nag;  young  Ligonnet, 
a  brisk  youth  of  Avignon,  with  Choisi  Dragoons,  close  in  his 
rear  !  With  such  swollen  mass  of  a  rider  no  nag  can  run  to 
advantage.  The  tired  nag,  spur-driven,  does  take  the  River 
Sorgue ;  but  sticks  in  the  middle  of  it ;  firm  on  that  chiaro 
Jbndo  di  Sorga ;  and  will  proceed  no  farther  for  spurring ! 
Young  Ligonnet  dashes  up ;  the  Copper-face  menaces  and 
bellows,  draws  pistol,  perhaps  even  snaps  it;  is  nevertheless 
seized  by  the  collar ;  is  tied  firm,  ankles  under  horse's  belly, 
and  ridden  back  to  Avignon,  hardly  to  be  saved  from  massacre 
on  the  streets  there.1 

Such  is  the  combustion  of  Avignon  and  the  Southwest, 
when  it  becomes  luminous.  Long  loud  debate  is  in  the 
august  Legislative,  in  the  Mother  Society,  as  to  what  now 
shall  be  done  with  it.  Amnesty,  cry  eloquent  Vergniaud  and 
all  Patriots :  let  there  be  mutual  pardon  and  repentance, 

1  Dampmaitin,  ubi  supra. 


218  PARLIAMENT    FIRST     [BK.  v.  CH.  m. 

restoration,  pacification,  and,  if  so  might  anyhow  be,  an  end ! 
Which  vote  ultimately  prevails.  So  the  Southwest  smoulders 
and  welters  again  in  an  'Amnesty,'  or  Non-remembrance, 
which  alas  cannot  but  remember,  no  Lethe  flowing  above 
ground !  Jourdan  himself  remains  unhanged ;  gets  loose 
again,  as  one  not  yet  gallows-ripe ;  nay,  as  we  transiently 
discern  from  the  distance,  is  '  carried  in  triumph  through  the 
cities  of  the  South.11  What  things  men  carry  ! 

With  which  transient  glimpse,  of  a  Copper-faced  Portent 
faring  in  this  manner  through  the  cities  of  the  South,  we 
must  quit  these  regions ; — and  let  them  smoulder.  They 
want  not  their  Aristocrats ;  proud  old  Nobles,  not  yet 
emigrated.  Aries  has  its  *  ChiffbnneJ  so,  in  symbolical  cant, 
they  name  that  Aristocrat  Secret- Association ;  Aries  has  its 
pavements  piled  up,  by  and  by,  into  Aristocrat  barricades. 
Against  which  Rebecqui,  the  hot-clear  Patriot,  must  lead 
Marseillese  with  cannon.  The  Bar  of  Iron  has  not  yet  risen 
to  the  top  in  the  Bay  of  Marseilles ;  neither  have  these  hot 
Sons  of  the  Phoceans  submitted  to  be  slaves.  By  clear 
management  and  hot  instance,  Rebecqui  dissipates  that 
Chiffbnne,  without  bloodshed ;  restores  the  pavement  of 
Aries.  He  sails  in  Coast-barks,  this  Rebecqui,  scrutinising 
suspicious  Martello-towers,  with  the  keen  eye  of  Patriotism ; 
marches  overland  with  despatch,  singly,  or  in  force ;  to  City 
after  City ;  dim  scouring  far  and  wide ; 2 — argues,  and  if  it 
must  be,  fights.  For  there  is  much  to  do ;  Jales  itself  is 
looking  suspicious.  So  that  Legislator  Fauchet,  after  debate 
on  it,  has  to  propose  Commissioners  and  a  Camp  on  the  Plain 
of  Beaucaire  ;  with  or  without  result. 

Of  all  which,  and  much  else,  let  us  note  only  this  small 
consequence,  that  young  Barbarous,  Advocate,  Town-Clerk  of 
Marseilles,  being  charged  to  have  these  things  remedied,  arrives 
at  Paris  in  the  month  of  February  1792.  The  beautiful  and 

1  Deux  Amis  ( Paris,  1797),  *&  PP-  59-71- 
*  Barbaroux,  p.  21  ;  Hist.  Par  I.  xiii.  421-4. 


1791-92]  NO    SUGAR 

brave :  young  Spartan,  ripe  in  energy,  not  ripe  in  wisdom ; 
over  whose  black  doom  there  shall  flit  nevertheless  a  certain 
ruddy  fervour,  streaks  of  bright  Southern  tint,  not  wholly 
swallowed  of  Death !  Note  also  that  the  Rolands  of  Lyons 
are  again  in  Paris;  for  the  second  and  final  time.  King's 
Inspectorship  is  abrogated  at  Lyons,  as  elsewhere :  Roland 
has  his  retiring-pension  to  claim,  if  attainable ;  has  Patriot 
friends  to  commune  with ;  at  lowest,  has  a  Book  to  publish. 
That  young  Barbaroux  and  the  Rolands  came  together ;  that 
elderly  Spartan  Roland  liked,  or  even  loved  the  young  Spartan, 

and  was  loved  by  him,  one  can  fancy :  and  Madame ? 

Breathe  not,  thou  poison-breath,  Evil-speech !  That  soul  is 
taintless,  clear  as  the  mirror-sea.  And  yet  if  they  two  did 
look  into  each  other's  eyes,  and  each,  in  silence,  in  tragical 
renunciance,  did  find  that  the  other  was  ail-too  lovely  ?  Honi 
goit !  She  calls  him  l  beautiful  as  Antinous ' :  he  *  will  speak 
elsewhere  of  that  astonishing  woman."1 — A  Madame  dTJdon 
(or  some  such  name,  for  Dumont  does  not  recollect  quite 
clearly)  gives  copious  Breakfast  to  the  Brissotin  Deputies  and 
us  Friends  of  Freedom,  at  her  House  in  the  Place  Vendome ; 
with  temporary  celebrity,  with  graces  and  wreathed  smiles  ; 
not  without  cost.  There,  amid  wide  babble  and  jingle,  our 
plan  of  Legislative  Debate  is  settled  for  the  day,  and  much 
counselling  held.  Strict  Roland  is  seen  there,  but  does  not 
go  often.1 


CHAPTER    IV 

NO   SUGAR 

SUCH  are  our  inward  troubles ;  seen  in  the  Cities  of  the 
South ;  extant,  seen  or  unseen,  in  all  cities  and  districts, 
North  as  well  as  South.  For  in  all  are  Aristocrats,  more  or 
less  malignant ;  watched  by  Patriotism  ;  which  again,  being 

1  Dumont,  Souvtnirs,  p.  374. 


220  PARLIAMENT    FIRST     [BK.  V.  CH.  IV. 

of  various  shades,  from  light  Fayettist-Feuillant  down  to  deep- 
sombre  Jacobin,  has  to  watch  even  itself. 

Directories  of  Departments,  what  we  call  County  Magis- 
tracies, being  chosen  by  Citizens  of  a  too  *  active '  class,  are 
found  to  pull  one  way ;  Municipalities,  Town  Magistracies,  to 
pull  the  other  way.  In  all  places  too  are  Dissident  Priests ; 
"whom  the  Legislative  will  have  to  deal  with .  contumacious 
individuals,  working  on  that  angriest  of  passions ;  plotting, 
enlisting  for  Coblentz ;  or  suspected  of  plotting :  fuel  of  a 
universal  unconstitutional  heat.  What  to  do  with  them  ? 
They  may  be  conscientious  as  well  as  contumacious :  gently 
they  should  be  dealt  with,  and  yet  it  must  be  speedily.  In 
unilluminated  La  Vendee  the  simple  are  like  to  be  seduced  by 
them ;  many  a  simple  peasant,  a  Cathelineau  the  wooldealer 
wayfaring  meditative  with  his  woolpacks,  in  these  hamlets, 
dubiously  shakes  his  head !  Two  Assembly  Commissioners 
went  thither  last  Autumn ;  considerate  Gensonne,  not  yet 
called  to  be  a  senator ;  Gallois,  an  editorial  man.  These 
Two,  consulting  with  General  Dumouriez,  spake  and  worked, 
softly,  with  judgment ;  they  have  hushed  down  the  irritation, 
and  produced  a  soft  Report, — for  the  time. 

The  General  himself  doubts  not  in  the  least  but  he  can 
keep  peace  there ;  being  an  able  man.  He  passes  these  frosty 
months  among  the  pleasant  people  of  Niort,  occupies  *  tolerably 
handsome  apartments  in  the  Castle  of  Niort,'  and  tempers  the 
minds  of  men.1  Why  is  there  but  one  Dumouriez  ?  Else- 
where you  find,  South  or  North,  nothing  but  untempered 
obscure  jarring ;  which  breaks  forth  ever  and  anon  into  open 
clangour  of  riot.  Southern  Perpignan  has  its  tocsin,  by  torch- 
light ;  with  rushing  and  onslaught :  Northern  Caen,  not  less, 
by  daylight;  with  Aristocrats  ranged  in  arms  at  Places  of 
Worship ;  Departmental  compromise  proving  impossible ; 
breaking  into  musketry  and  a  Plot  discovered  ! 2  Add 
Hunger  too :  for  bread,  always  dear,  is  getting  dearer :  not 
so  much  as  Sugar  can  be  had;  for  good  reasons.  Poor 
1  Dumouriez,  ii.  129.  *  Hist.  ParL  xii.  131,  141  ;  xiii.  114,  417. 


1791-92]  NO    SUGAR  221 

Simoneau,  Mayor  of  Etampes,  in  this  Northern  region,  hanging 
out  his  Red  Flag  in  some  riot  of  grains,  is  trampled  to 
death  by  a  hungry  exasperated  People.  What  a  trade  this 
of  Mayor,  in  these  times  !  Mayor  of  Saint-Denis  hung  at  the 
Lanterne,  by  Suspicion  and  Dyspepsia,  as  we  saw  long  since ; 
Mayor  of  Vaison,  as  we  saw  lately,  buried  before  dead ;  and 
now  this  poor  Simoneau  the  Tanner,  of  Etampes, — whom  legal 
Constitutionalism  will  not  forget. 

With  factions,  suspicions,  want  of  bread  and  sugar,  it  is 
verily  what  they  call  dtchire,  torn  asunder,  this  poor  country . 
France  and  all  that  is  French.  For,  over  seas  too  come  bad 
news.  In  black  Saint-Domingo,  before  that  variegated  Glitter 
in  the  Champs  Elys&s  was  lit  for  an  Accepted  Constitution, 
there  had  risen,  and  was  burning  contemporary  with  it,  quite 
another  variegated  Glitter  and  nocturnal  Fulgor,  had  we 
known  it :  of  molasses  and  ardent-spirits ;  of  sugar-boileries, 
plantations,  furniture,  cattle  and  men  :  sky-high ;  the  Plain 
of  Cap  Francais  one  huge  whirl  of  smoke  and  flame  ! 

What  a  change  here,  in  these  two  years ;  since  that  first 
'Box  of  Tricolor  Cockades'  got  through  the  Custom-house 
and  atrabiliar  Creoles  too  rejoiced  that  there  was  a  levelling 
of  Bastilles !  Levelling  is  comfortable,  as  we  often  say : 
levelling,  yet  only  down  to  oneself.  Your  pale-white  Creoles 
have  their  grievances  : — and  your  yellow  Quarteroons  ?  And 
your  dark-yellow  Mulattoes?  And  your  Slaves  soot-black? 
Quarteroon  Oge',  Friend  of  our  Parisian-Brissotin  Friends  of 
the  Blacks,  felt,  for  his  share  too,  that  Insurrection  was  the 
most  sacred  of  duties.  So  the  tricolor  Cockades  had  fluttered 
and  swashed  only  some  three  months  on  the  Creole  hat,  when 
Oge's  signal  conflagrations  went  aloft ;  with  the  voice  of  rage 
and  terror.  Repressed,  doomed  to  die,  he  took  black  powder 
or  seedgrains  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand,  this  Oge ;  sprinkled  a 
film  of  white  ones  on  the  top,  and  said  to  his  Judges,  'Behold, 
they  are  white ' ;  then  shook  his  hand,  and  said,  '  Where  are 
the  whites,  Oil  sont  les  blancs  ?  * 

So  now,  in  the  Autumn  of  1791,  looking  from  the  sky- 


PARLIAMENT    FIRST     [BK.  v.  CH.  IV. 

windows  of  Cap  Franks,  thick  clouds  of  smoke  girdle  our 
horizon,  smoke  in  the  day,  in  the  night  fire  ;  preceded  by 
fugitive  shrieking  white  women,  by  Terror  and  Rumomu 
Black  demonised  squadrons  are  massacring  and  harrying,  with 
nameless  cruelty.  They  fight  and  fire  *  from  behind  thickets 
and  coverts,1  for  the  Black  man  loves  the  Bush ;  they  rush  to 
the  attack,  thousands  strong,  with  brandished  cutlasses  and 
fusils,  with  caperings,  shoutings  and  vociferation, — which,  if 
the  White  Volunteer  Company  stands  firm,  dwindle  into 
staggerings,  into  quick  gabblement,  into  panic  flight  at  the 
first  volley,  perhaps  before  it.1  Poor  Og£  could  be  broken 
on  the  wheel ;  this  fire- whirlwind  too  can  be  abated,  driven 
up  into  the  Mountains  :  but  Saint-Domingo  is  shaken,  as  Oge's 
seedgrains  were ;  shaking,  writhing  in  long  horrid  death- throes, 
it  is  Black  without  remedy ;  and  remains,  as  African  Haiti,  a 
monition  to  the  world. 

O  my  Parisian  Friends,  is  not  this,  as  well  as  Regraters  and 
Feuillant  Plotters,  one  cause  of  the  astonishing  dearth  of 
Sugar !  The  Grocer,  palpitant,  with  drooping  lip,  sees  his 
Sugar  taxe ;  weighed  out  by  female  Patriotism,  in  instant 
retail,  at  the  inadequate  rate  of  twenty-five  sous,  or  thirteen 
pence  a  pound.  *  Abstain  from  it  ? '  Yes,  ye  Patriot  Sections, 
all  ye  Jacobins,  abstain !  Louvet  and  Collot-d'Herbois  so 
advise;  resolute  to  make  the  sacrifice;  though  'how  shall 
literary  men  do  without  coffee  ? '  Abstain,  with  an  oath ; 
that  is  the  surest !  * 

Also,  for  like  reason,  must  not  Brest  and  the  Shipping 
Interest  languish?  Poor  Brest  languishes,  sorrowing,  not 
without  spleen ;  denounces  an  Aristocrat  Bertrand-Moleville, 
traitorous  Aristocrat  Marine-Minister.  Do  not  her  Ships  and 
King's  Ships  lie  rotting  piecemeal  in  harbour ;  Naval  Officers 
mostly  fled,  and  on  furlough  too,  with  pay?  Little  stirring 
there ;  if  it  be  not  the  Brest  Galleys,  whip-driven,  with  their 
.Galley-Slaves, — alas,  with  some  Forty  of  our  hapless  Swiss 

1  Deux  Amis,  x.  157. 

1  Dfbots  des  Jacobins,  etc.  (Hist.  Parl.  xiii.  171,  92-8). 


1791-92]      KINGS    AND    EMIGRANTS          223 

Soldiers  of  Chateau- Vieux,  among  others  !  These  Forty  Swiss, 
too  mindful  of  Nanci,  do  now,  in  their  red  wool  caps,  tug 
sorrowfully  at  the  oar ;  looking  into  the  Atlantic  brine,  which 
reflects  only  their  own  sorrowful  shaggy  faces ;  and  seem 
forgotten  of  Hope. 

But,  on  the  whole,  may  we  not  say,  in  figurative  language, 
that  the  French  Constitution  which  shall  march  is  very  rheu- 
matic, full  of  shooting  internal  pains,  in  joint  and  muscle ; 
and  will  not  march  without  difficulty  ? 


CHAPTER    V 
KINGS   AND   EMIGRANTS 

EXTREMELY  rheumatic  Constitutions  have  been  known  to 
march,  and  keep  on  their  feet,  though  in  a  staggering  sprawl- 
ing manner,  for  long  periods,  in  virtue  of  one  thing  only : 
that  the  Head  were  healthy.  But  this  Head  of  the  French 
Constitution !  What  King  Louis  is  and  cannot  help  being, 
Readers  already  know.  A  King  who  cannot  take  the  Consti- 
tution, nor  reject  the  Constitution :  nor  do  anything  at  all, 
but  miserably  ask,  What  shall  I  do  ?  A  King  environed  with 
endless  confusions ;  in  whose  own  mind  is  no  germ  of  order. 
Haughty  implacable  remnants  of  Noblesse  struggling  with 
humiliated  repentant  Barnave-Lameths ;  struggling  in  that 
obscure  element  of  fetchers  and  carriers,  of  Half-pay  braggarts 
from  the  Cafe  Valok,  of  Chambermaids,  whisperers,  and  sub- 
altern officious  persons ;  fierce  Patriotism  looking  on  all  the 
while,  more  and  more  suspicious,  from  without :  what,  in  such 
struggle,  can  they  do?  At  best,  cancel  one  another,  and 
produce  zero.  Poor  King !  Barnave  and  your  Senatorial 
Jaucourts  speak  earnestly  into  this  ear;  Bertrand-Moleville, 
and  Messengers  from  Coblentz,  speak  earnestly  into  that :  the 
poor  Royal  head  turns  to  the  one  side  and  to  the  other  side ; 
can  turn  itself  fixedly  to  no  side.  Let  Decency  drop  a  veil 


PARLIAMENT    FIRST       [BK.  v.  CH.  v. 

over  it :  sorrier  misery  was  seldom  enacted  in  the  world.  This 
one  small  fact,  does  it  not  throw  the  saddest  light  on 
much  ?  The  Queen  is  lamenting  to  Madame  Campan :  '  What 
am  I  to  do?  When  they,  these  Barnaves,  get  us  advised 
to  any  step  which  the  Noblesse  do  not  like,  then  I  am 
pouted  at ;  nobody  comes  to  my  card-table ;  the  King's 
Couchee  is  solitary.11  In  such  a  case  of  dubiety,  what  is 
one  to  do  ?  Go  inevitably  to  the  ground  ! 

The  King  has  accepted  this  Constitution,  knowing  before- 
hand that  it  will  not  serve :  he  studies  it,  and  executes  it  in 
the  hope  mainly  that  it  will  be  found  inexecutable.  King's 
Ships  lie  rotting  in  harbour,  their  officers  gone ;  the  Armies 
disorganised ;  robbers  scour  the  Highways,  which  wear  down 
unrepaired  ;  all  Public  Service  lies  slack  and  waste  :  the  Execu- 
tive makes  no  effort,  or  an  effort  only  to  throw  the  blame  on 
the  Constitution.  Shamming  death,  '  faisant  la  mort ! '  What 
Constitution,  use  it  in  this  manner,  can  march  ?  *  Grow  to 
disgust  the  Nation,'  it  will  truly,2  unless  you  first  grow  to 
disgust  the  Nation !  It  is  Bertrand  de  Moleville's  plan,  and 
his  Majesty's  ;  the  best  they  can  form. 

Or  if,  after  all,  this  best-plan  proved  too  slow ;  proved  a 
failure?  Provident  of  that  too,  the  Queen,  shrouded  in 
deepest  mystery,  '  writes  all  day,  in  cipher,  day  after  day,  to 
Coblentz';  Engineer  Goguelat,  he  of  the  Night  of  Spurs,  whom 
the  Lafayette  Amnesty  has  delivered  from  Prison,  rides  and 
runs.  Now  and  then,  on  fit  occasion,  a  Royal  familiar  visit  can 
be  paid  to  that  Salle  de  Manege,  an  affecting  encouraging  Royal 
Speech  (sincere,  doubt  it  not,  for  the  moment)  can  be  delivered 
there,  and  the  Senators  all  cheer  and  almost  weep ; — at  the 
same  time  Mallet  du  Pan  has  visibly  ceased  editing,  and 
invisibly  bears  abroad  a  King's  Autograph,  soliciting  help 
from  the  Foreign  Potentates.8  Unhappy  Louis,  do  this  thing 
or  else  that  other, — if  thou  couldst ! 

The  thing  which  the   King's  Government  did  do  was  to 

1  Campan,  ii.  177,  202. 

1  Bertrand-Moleville,  L  c.  4.  8  Ibid.  i.  370. 


1791-92]      KINGS    AND    EMIGRANTS         225 

stagger  distractedly  from  contradiction  to  contradiction ;  and 
wedding  Fire  to  Water,  envelope  itself  in  hissing  and  ashy 
steam.  Danton  and  needy  corruptible  Patriots  are  sopped 
with  presents  of  cash :  they  accept  the  sop ;  they  rise 
refreshed  by  it,  and — travel  their  own  way.1  Nay,  the  King's 
Government  did  likewise  hire  Hand-clappers,  or  claqueurs, 
persons  to  applaud.  Subterranean  Rivarol  has  Fifteen 
Hundred  Men  in  King's  pay,  at  the  rate  of  some  10,0007. 
sterling  per  month ;  what  he  calls  *  a  staff*  of  genius ' : 
Paragraph-writers,  Placard  Journalists;  'two  hundred  and 
eighty  Applauders,  at  three  shillings  a  day ' :  one  of  the 
strangest  Staffs  ever  commanded  by  man, — the  muster-rolls 
and  account-books  of  which  still  exist.8  Bertrand-Moleville 
himself,  in  a  way  he  thinks  very  dexterous,  contrives  to  pack 
the  Galleries  of  the  Legislative ;  gets  Sansculottes  hired  to  go 
thither,  and  applaud  at  a  signal  given,  they  fancying  it  was 
Pe'tion  that  bade  them  :  a  device  which  was  not  detected  for 
almost  a  week.  Dexterous  enough ;  as  if  a  man,  finding  the 
Day  fast  decline,  should  determine  on  altering  the  Clock- 
hands  :  that  is  a  thing  possible  for  him. 

Here  too  let  us  note  an  unexpected  apparition  of  Philippe 
d'Orleans  at  Court :  his  last  at  the  Levee  of  any  King. 
D'Orleans,  some  time  in  the  winter  months  seemingly,  has 
been  appointed  to  that  old  first-coveted  rank  of  Admiral, — 
though  only  over  ships  rotting  in  port.  The  wished-for 
comes  too  late  !  However,  he  waits  on  Bertrand-Moleville  to 
give  thanks :  nay  to  state  that  he  would  willingly  thank  his 
Majesty  in  person ;  that,  in  spite  of  all  the  horrible  things 
men  have  said  and  sung,  he  is  far  from  being  his  Majesty's 
enemy ;  at  bottom,  how  far  !  Bertrand  delivers  the  message, 
brings  about  the  royal  Interview,  which  does  pass  to  the 
satisfaction  of  his  Majesty ;  D'Orleans  seeming  clearly 
repentant,  determined  to  turn  over  a  new  leaf.  And  yet, 
next  Sunday,  what  do  we  see  ?  *  Next  Sunday,'  says  Bertrand, 
*  he  came  to  the  King's  Levee ;  but  the  Courtiers  ignorant  of 

1  Bertrand-Moleville,  i.  c.  17.  *  Montgaillard,  iiL  41. 

VOL.  n.  F 


226  PARLIAMENT    FIftST      [BK.  v.  CH.  V. 

what  had  passed,  the  Crowd  of  Royalists  who  were  accustomed 
to  resort  thither  on  that  day  specially  to  pay  their  court,  gave 
him  the  most  humiliating  reception.  They  came  pressing 
round  him ;  managing,  as  if  by  mistake,  to  tread  on  his  toes, 
to  elbow  him  towards  the  door,  and  not  let  him  enter  again. 
He  went  down-stairs  to  her  Majesty's  Apartments,  where 
cover  was  laid ;  so  soon  as  he  showed  face,  sounds  rose  on  all 
sides,  " Messieurs,  take  care  of  the  dishes"  as  if  he  had  carried 
poison  in  his  pockets.  The  insults,  which  his  presence  every- 
where excited,  forced  him  to  retire  without  having  seen  the 
Royal  Family :  the  crowd  followed  him  to  the  Queen's  stair- 
case ;  hi  descending,  he  received  a  spitting  (crachaf)  on  the 
head,  and  some  others  on  his  clothes.  Rage  and  spite 
were  seen  visibly  painted  on  his  face ' : l  as  indeed  how  could 
they  miss  to  be  ?  He  imputes  it  all  to  the  King  and  Queen, 
who  know  nothing  of  it,  who  are  even  much  grieved  at  it ;  and 
so  descends  to  his  Chaos  again.  Bertrand  was  there  at  the 
Chateau  that  day  himself,  and  an  eye-witness  to  these  things. 

For  the  rest,  Non-jurant  Priests,  and  the  repression  of 
them,  will  distract  the  King's  conscience;  Emigrant  Princes 
and  Noblesse  will  force  him  to  double-dealing  :  there  must  be 
veto  on  veto ;  amid  the  ever- waxing  indignation  of  men.  For 
Patriotism,  as  we  said,  looks  on  from  without,  more  and  more 
suspicious.  Waxing  tempest,  blast  after  blast,  of  Patriotic 
indignation,  from  without ;  dim  inorganic  whirl  of  Intrigues, 
Fatuities,  within !  Inorganic,  fatuous ;  from  which  the  eye 
turns  away.  De  Stael  intrigues  for  her  so  gallant  Narbonne, 
to  get  him  made  War-Minister ;  and  ceases  not,  having  got 
him  made.  The  King  shall  fly  to  Rouen ;  shall  there,  with 
the  gallant  Narbonne,  properly  *  modify  the  Constitution.' 
This  is  the  same  brisk  Narbonne,  who,  last  year,  cut  out  from 
their  entanglement,  by  force  of  dragoons,  those  poor  fugitive 
Royal  Aunts :  men  say  he  is  at  bottom  their  Brother,  or  even 
more,  so  scandalous  is  scandal.  He  drives  now,  with  his  De 
Stael,  rapidly  to  the  Armies,  to  the  Frontier  Towns;  pro- 
1  Bertrand- Moleville,  i.  177. 


1791-92]      KINGS    AND    EMIGRANTS         227 

duces  rose-coloured  Reports,  not  too  credible ;  perorates,  ges- 
ticulates ;  wavers  poising  himself  on  the  top,  for  a  moment, 
seen  of  men  ;  then  tumbles,  dismissed,  washed  away  by  the 
Time-flood. 

Also  the  fair  Princess  de  Lamballe  intrigues,  bosom-friend 
of  her  Majesty :  to  the  angering  of  Patriotism.  Beautiful 
Unfortunate,  why  did  she  ever  return  from  England  ?  Her 
small  silver-voice,  what  can  it  profit  in  that  piping  of  the 
black  World-tornado  ?  which  will  whirl  her,  poor  fragile 
Bird  of  Paradise,  against  grim  rocks.  Lamballe  and  De  Stael 
intrigue  visibly,  apart  or  together :  but  who  shall  reckon  how 
many  others,  and  in  what  infinite  ways,  invisibly !  Is  there 
not  what  one  may  call  an  *  Austrian  Committee,'  sitting 
invisible  in  the  Tuileries ;  centre  of  an  invisible  Anti-National 
Spiderweb,  which,  for  we  sleep  among  mysteries,  stretches  its 
threads  to  the  ends  of  the  Earth  ?  Journalist  Carra  has  now 
the  clearest  certainty  of  it :  to  Brissotin  Patriotism,  and 
France  generally,  it  is  growing  more  and  more  probable. 

O  Reader,  hast  thou  no  pity  for  this  Constitution  ?  Rheu- 
matic shooting  pains  in  its  members  ;  pressure  of  hydrocephale 
and  hysteric  vapours  on  its  Brain  :  a  Constitution  divided 
against  itself ;  which  will  never  march,  hardly  even  stagger ! 
Why  were  not  Drouet  and  Procureur  Sausse  in  their  beds,  that 
unblessed  Varennes  Night  ?  Why  did  they  not,  in  the  name 
of  Heaven,  let  the  Korff  Berline  go  whither  it  listed  ?  Name- 
less incoherency,  incompatibility,  perhaps  prodigies  at  which 
the  world  still  shudders,  had  been  spared. 

But  now  comes  the  third  thing  that  bodes  ill  for  the  march- 
ing of  this  French  Constitution  :  besides  the  French  People, 
and  the  French  King,  there  is  thirdly — the  assembled  European 
World.  It  has  become  necessary  now  to  look  at  that  also. 
Fair  France  is  so  luminous  :  and  round  and  round  it,  is  troub- 
lous Cimmerian  Night.  Calonnes,  Breteuils  hover  dim,  far- 
flown  ;  over-netting  Europe  with  intrigues.  From  Turin  to 
Vienna;  to  Berlin,  and  utmost  Petersburg  in  the  frozen 


228  PARLIAMENT    FIRST      [BK.  v.  CH.  v. 

North !  Great  Burke  has  raised  his  great  voice  long  ago ; 
eloquently  demonstrating  that  the  end  of  an  Epoch  is  come, 
to  all  appearance  the  end  of  Civilised  Time.  Him  many 
answer :  Camille  Desmoulins,  Clootz  Speaker  of  Mankind, 
Paine  the  rebellious  Needleman,  and  honourable  Gaelic  Vindi- 
cators in  that  country  and  in  this :  but  the  great  Burke 
remains  unanswerable;  'the  Age  of  Chivalry  is  gone,1  and 
could  not  but  go,  having  now  produced  the  still  more  in- 
domitable Age  of  Hunger.  Altars  enough,  of  the  Dubois- 
Rohan  sort,  changing  to  the  Gobel-and-Talleyrand  sort,  are 
faring  by  rapid  transmutations  to — shall  we  say,  the  right 
Proprietor  of  them  ?  French  Game  and  French  Game-Pre- 
servers did  alight  on  the  Cliffs  of  Dover,  with  cries  of  distress. 
Who  will  say  that  the  end  of  much  is  not  come  ?  A  set  of 
mortals  has  risen,  who  believe  that  Truth  is  not  a  printed 
Speculation,  but  a  practical  Fact ;  that  Freedom  and  Brother- 
hood are  possible  in  this  Earth,  supposed  always  to  be  Belial's, 
which  *  the  Supreme  Quack '  was  to  inherit !  Who  will  say 
that  Church,  State,  Throne,  Altar  are  not  hi  danger ;  that 
the  sacred  Strongbox  itself,  last  Palladium  of  effete  Humanity, 
may  not  be  blasphemously  blown  upon,  and  its  padlocks 
undone  ? 

The  poor  Constituent  Assembly  might  act  with  what  deli- 
cacy and  diplomacy  it  would ;  declare  that  it  abjured 
meddling  with  its  neighbours,  foreign  conquest,  and  so  forth ; 
but  from  the  first  this  thing  was  to  be  predicted :  that  old 
Europe  and  new  France  could  not  subsist  together.  A  Glorious 
Revolution,  oversetting  State-Prisons  and  Feudalism ;  publish- 
ing, with  outburst  of  Federative  Cannon,  in  face  of  all  the 
Earth,  that  Appearance  is  not  Reality,  how  shall  it  subsist 
amid  Governments  which,  if  Appearance  is  not  Reality,  are — 
one  knows  not  what  ?  In  death-feud,  and  internecine  wrestle 
and  battle,  it  shall  subsist  with  them ;  not  otherwise. 

Rights  of  Man,  printed  on  Cotton  Handkerchiefs,  in  various 
dialects  of  human  speech,  pass  over  to  the  Frankfort  Fair.1 
1  Toulongeon,  i.  256. 


1791-92]      KINGS    AND    EMIGRANTS         229 

What  say  we,  Frankfort  Fair  ?  They  have  crossed  Euphrates, 
and  the  fabulous  Hydaspes ;  wafted  themselves  beyond  the 
Ural,  Altai,  Himalayan ;  struck  off  from  wood  stereotypes, 
in  angular  Picture-writing,  they  are  jabbered  and  jingled  of 
in  China  and  Japan.  Where  will  it  stop  ?  Kien-Lung  smells 
mischief;  not  the  remotest  Dalai-Lama  shall  now  knead  his 
dough- pills  in  peace. — Hateful  to  us,  as  is  the  Night !  Bestir 
yourselves,  ye  Defenders  of  Order !  They  do  bestir  them- 
selves :  all  Kings  and  Kinglets,  with  their  spiritual  temporal 
array,  are  astir ;  their  brows  clouded  with  menace.  Diplo- 
matic emissaries  fly  swift ;  Conventions,  privy  Conclaves 
assemble ;  and  wise  wigs  wag,  taking  what  counsel  they  can. 

Also,  as  we  said,  the  Pamphleteer  draws  pen,  on  this  side 
and  that :  zealous  fists  beat  the  Pulpit-drum.  Not  without 
issue !  Did  not  iron  Birmingham,  shouting  *  Church  and 
King/  itself  knew  not  why,  burst  out,  last  July,  into  rage, 
drunkenness  and  fire  ;  and  your  Priestleys,  and  the  like,  dining 
there  on  that  Bastille  day,  get  the  maddest  singeing ;  scandal- 
ous to  consider !  In  which  same  days,  as  we  can  remark, 
High  Potentates,  Austrian  and  Prussian,  with  Emigrants, 
were  faring  towards  Pilnitz  in  Saxony ;  there,  on  the  27th  of 
August,  they,  keeping  to  themselves  what  further  *  secret 
Treaty '  there  might  or  might  not  be,  did  publish  their  hopes 
and  their  threatenings,  their  Declaration  that  it  was  *  the 
common  cause  of  Kings.' 

Where  a  will  to  quarrel  is,  there  is  a  way.  Our  readers 
remember  that  Pentecost-Night,  Fourth  of  August  1789, 
when  Feudalism  fell  in  a  few  hours  ?  The  National  Assembly, 
in  abolishing  Feudalism,  promised  that  '  compensation'  should 
be  given ;  and  did  endeavour  to  give  it.  Nevertheless  the 
Austrian  Kaiser  answers  that  his  German  Princes,  for  their 
part,  cannot  be  unfeudalised ;  that  they  have  Possessions  in 
French  Alsace,  and  Feudal  Rights  secured  to  them,  for  which 
no  conceivable  compensation  will  suffice.  So  this  of  the 
Possessioned  Princes,  *  Princes  possessiones?  is  bandied  from 
Court  to  Court ;  covers  acres  of  diplomatic  paper  at  this  day: 


230  PARLIAMENT    FIRST      [BK.  v.  CH.  v. 

a  weariness  to  the  world.  Kaunitz  argues  from  Vienna; 
Delessarts  responds  from  Paris,  though  perhaps  not  sharply 
enough.  The  Kaiser  and  his  Possessioned  Princes  will  too 
evidently  come  and  take  compensation, — so  much  as  they  can 
get.  Nay  might  one  not  partition  France,  as  we  have  done 
Poland,  and  are  doing ;  and  so  pacify  it  with  a  vengeance  ? 

From  South  to  North  !  For  actually  it  is  *  the  common 
cause  of  Kings.1  Swedish  Gustav,  sworn  Knight  of  the  Queen 
of  France,  will  lead  Coalised  Armies ; — had  not  Ankarstrb'm 
treasonously  shot  him ;  for,  indeed,  there  were  griefs  nearer 
home.1  Austria  and  Prussia  speak  at  Pilnitz ;  all  men 
intensely  listening.  Imperial  Rescripts  have  gone  out  from 
Turin ;  there  will  be  secret  Convention  at  Vienna.  Catherine 
of  Russia  beckons  approvingly ;  will  help,  were  she  ready. 
Spanish  Bourbon  stirs  amid  his  pillows ;  from  him  too, 
even  from  him,  shall  there  come  help.  Lean  Pitt,  *  the 
Minister  of  Preparatives,'  looks  out  from  his  watch-tower 
in  Saint  James's,  in  a  suspicious  manner.  Councillors  plot- 
ting, Calonnes  dim-hovering ; — alas,  Sergeants  rub-a-dubbing 
openly  through  all  manner  of  German  market-towns,  collect- 
ing ragged  valour ! a  Look  where  you  will,  immeasurable 
Obscurantism  is  girdling  this  fair  France ;  which,  again,  will 
not  be  girdled  by  it.  Europe  is  in  travail ;  pang  after  pang ; 
what  a  shriek  was  that  of  Pilnitz  !  The  birth  will  be :  WAB, 

Nay,  the  worst  feature  of  the  business  is  this  last,  still  to 
be  named ;  the  Emigrants  at  Coblentz.  So  many  thousands 
ranking  there,  in  bitter  hate  and  menace :  King's  Brothers, 
all  Princes  of  the  Blood  except  wicked  D'Orleans ;  your 
duelling  De  Castries,  your  eloquent  Cazales ;  bull-headed 
Malseigne,  a  wargod  Broglie ;  Distaff  Seigneurs,  insulted 
Officers,  all  that  have  ridden  across  the  Rhine-stream ;  — 
D'Artois  welcoming  Abbe  Maury  with  a  kiss,  and  clasping 
him  publicly  to  his  own  royal  heart !  Emigration,  flowing 

1  3Oth  March  1792  (Annual  Register,  p.  n). 
*  Toulongeon,  ii.  100-117. 


1791-92]     KINGS    AND    EMIGRANTS         281 

over  the  Frontiers,  now  in  drops,  now  in  streams,  in  various 
humours  of  fear,  of  petulance,  rage  and  hope,  ever  since  those 
first  Bastille  days  when  D'Artois  went,  *  to  shame  the  citizens 
of  Paris,1 — has  swollen  to  the  size  of  a  Phenomenon  for  the 
world.  Coblentz  is  become  a  small  extra-national  Versailles ; 
a  Versailles  in  partibus :  briguing,  intriguing,  favouritism, 
strumpetocracy  itself,  they  say,  goes  on  there ;  all  the  old 
activities,  on  a  small  scale,  quickened  by  hungry  Revenge. 

Enthusiasm,  of  loyalty,  of  hatred  and  hope,  has  risen  to  a 
high  pitch ;  as,  in  any  Coblentz  tavern  you  may  hear,  in 
speech  and  in  singing.  Maury  assists  in  the  interior  Council ; 
much  is  decided  on  :  for  one  thing,  they  keep  lists  of  the 
dates  of  your  emigrating  ;  a  month  sooner,  or  a  month  later, 
determines  your  greater  or  your  less  right  to  the  coming 
Division  of  the  Spoil.  Cazales  himself,  because  he  had  occa- 
sionally spoken  with  a  Constitutional  tone,  was  looked  on 
coldly  at  first :  so  pure  are  our  principles.1  And  arms  are 
a-hammering  at  Liege ;  *  three  thousand  horses '  ambling 
hitherward  from  the  Fairs  of  Germany :  Cavalry  enrolling ; 
likewise  Foot-soldiers,  *  in  blue  coat,  red  waistcoat  and 
nankeen  trousers.'8  They  have  their  secret  domestic  corre- 
spondences, as  their  open  foreign :  with  disaffected  Crypto- 
Aristocrats,  with  contumacious  Priests,  with  Austrian  Com- 
mittee in  the  Tuileries.  Deserters  are  spirited  over  by 
assiduous  crimps ;  Royal- Allemand  is  gone  almost  wholly. 
Their  route  of  march,  towards  France  and  the  Division  of  the 
Spoil,  is  marked  out,  were  the  Kaiser  once  ready.  *  It  is 
said,  they  mean  to  poison  the  sources  ;  but,"1  adds  Patriotism 
making  report  of  it,  *  they  will  not  poison  the  source  of 
Liberty';  whereat  on  applaudit,  we  cannot  but  applaud.  Also 
they  have  manufactories  of  False  Assignats ;  and  men  that 
circulate  in  the  interior,  distributing  and  disbursing  the  same ; 
one  of  these  we  denounce  now  to  Legislative  Patriotism  :  *  a 
man  Lebrun  by  name ;  about  thirty  years  of  age,  with  blonde 

1  Montgaillard,  iii.  5-17  ;  Toulongeon,  ubi  supriu 
1  See  Hist.  farl.  xiii.  11-38,  41-61,  358,  etfc 


232  PARLIAMENT    FIRST       [BK.  v.  CH.  V. 

hair  and  in  quantity ;  has,'  only  for  the  time  being  surely,  *  a 
black-eye,  ceil  poche ;  goes  in  a  wiski  with  a  black  horse,1  * 
always  keeping  his  Gig  ! 

Unhappy  Emigrants,  it  was  their  lot,  and  the  lot  of 
France  !  They  are  ignorant  of  much  that  they  should  know  : 
of  themselves,  of  what  is  around  them.  A  Political  Party 
that  knows  not  when  it  is  beaten,  may  become  one  of  the 
fatalest  of  things,  to  itself,  and  to  all.  Nothing  will  convince 
these  men  that  they  cannot  scatter  the  French  Revolution  at 
the  first  blast  of  their  war-trumpet ;  that  the  French  Revolu- 
tion is  other  than  a  blustering  Effervescence,  of  brawlers  and 
spouters,  which,  at  the  flash  of  chivalrous  broadswords,  at  the 
rustle  of  gallows-ropes,  will  burrow  itself,  in  dens  the  deeper 
the  welcomer.  But,  alas,  what  man  does  know  and  measure 
himself,  and  the  things  that  are  round  him ; — else  where  were 
the  need  of  physical  fighting  at  all  ?  Never,  till  they  are 
cleft  asunder,  can  these  heads  believe  that  a  Sansculottic  arm 
has  any  vigour  in  it :  cleft  asunder,  it  will  be  too  late  to 
believe. 

One  may  say,  without  spleen  against  his  poor  erring  brothers 
of  any  side,  that  above  all  other  mischiefs,  this  of  the  Emigrant 
Nobles  acted  fatally  on  France.  Could  they  have  known,  could 
they  have  understood  !  In  the  beginning  of  1789,  a  splendour 
and  a  terror  still  surrounded  them  :  the  Conflagration  of  their 
Chateaus,  kindled  by  months  of  obstinacy,  went  out  after  the 
Fourth  of  August ;  and  might  have  continued  out,  had  they 
at  all  known  what  to  defend,  what  to  relinquish  as  indefen- 
sible. They  were  still  a  graduated  Hierarchy  of  Authorities, 
or  the  accredited  similitude  of  such :  they  sat  there,  uniting 
King  with  Commonalty ;  transmitting  and  translating  gradu- 
ally^ from  degree  to  degree,  the  command  of  the  one  into  the 
obedience  of  the  other ;  rendering  command  and  obedience 
still  possible.  Had  they  understood  their  place,  and  what  to 
do  in  it,  this  French  Revolution,  which  went  forth  explosively 
in  years  and  in  months,  might  have  spread  itself  over  genera- 
r,  Stance  du  2  Novembre  1791  (Hist.  Parl.  xii.  212). 


1791-92]      KINGS    AND    EMIGRANTS         233 

tions ;  and  not  a  torture-death  but  a  quiet  euthanasia  have 
been  provided  for  many  things. 

But  they  were  proud  and  high,  these  men ;  they  were  not 
wise  to  consider.  They  spurned  all  from  them  in  disdainful 
hate,  they  drew  the  sword  and  flung  away  the  scabbard. 
France  has  not  only  no  Hierarchy  of  Authorities,  to  translate 
command  into  obedience;  its  Hierarchy  of  Authorities  has 
fled  to  the  enemies  of  France ;  calls  loudly  on  the  enemies  of 
France  to  interfere  armed,  who  want  but  a  pretext  to  do  that. 
Jealous  Kings  and  Kaisers  might  have  looked  on  long,  medi- 
tating interference,  yet  afraid  and  ashamed  to  interfere :  but 
now  do  not  the  King's  Brothers,  and  all  French  Nobles, 
Dignitaries  and  Authorities  that  are  free  to  speak,  which  the 
King  himself  is  not, — passionately  invite  us,  in  the  name  of 
Right  and  of  Might  ?  Ranked  at  Coblentz,  from  Fifteen  to 
Twenty  thousand  stand  now  brandishing  their  weapons,  with 
the  cry  :  On,  on  !  Yes,  Messieurs,  you  shall  on  ; — and  divide 
the  spoil  according  to  your  dates  of  emigrating. 

Of  all  which  things  a  poor  Legislative  Assembly,  and 
Patriot  France,  is  informed :  by  denunciant  friend,  by  trium- 
phant foe.  Sulleau's  Pamphlets,  of  the  Rivarol  Staff  of  Genius, 
circulate;  heralding  supreme  hope.  Durosoy's  Placards  tapestry 
the  walls ;  Chant  du  Coq  crows  day,  pecked  at  by  Talien's 
Ami  des  Citoyens.  KingVFriend  Royou,  Ami  du  Roi,  can 
name,  hi  exact  arithmetical  ciphers,  the  contingents  of  the 
various  Invading  Potentates ;  in  all,  Four  hundred  and  nine- 
teen thousand  Foreign  fighting  men,  with  Fifteen  thousand 
Emigrants.  Not  to  reckon  these  your  daily  and  hourly 
desertions,  which  an  Editor  must  daily  record,  of  whole 
Companies,  and  even  Regiments,  crying  Vive  le  Roi,  Vive  la 
Reine,  and  marching  over  with  banners  spread :  * — lies  all, 
and  wind ;  yet  to  Patriotism  not  wind ;  nor,  alas,  one  day,  to 
Royou  !  Patriotism,  therefore,  may  brawl  and  babble  yet  a 
little  while :  but  its  hours  are  numbered :  Europe  is  coming 
1  Ami  du  Roi  Newspaper  (in  Hist.  Pearl,  xiii.  175). 


234  PARLIAMENT    FIRST     [BK.  v.  CH.  vi. 

with  Four  hundred  and  nineteen  thousand  and  the  Chivalry 
of  France ;  the  gallows,  one  may  hope,  will  get  its  own. 


CHAPTER    VI 

BRIGANDS   AND   JALES 

We  shall  have  War,  then ;  and  on  what  terms  !  With  an 
Executive  *  pretending,1  really  with  less  and  less  deceptiveness 
now,  *  to  be  dead ' ;  casting  even  a  wishful  eye  towards  the 
enemy :  on  such  terms  we  shall  have  War. 

Public  Functionary  hi  vigorous  action  there  is  none ;  if  it 
be  not  Rivarol  with  his  Staff  of  Genius  and  Two  hundred  and 
eighty  Applauders.  The  Public  Service  lies  waste ;  the  very 
Taxgatherer  has  forgotten  his  cunning  :  in  this  and  the  other 
Provincial  Board  of  Management  (Directoire  de  Departernent) 
it  is  found  advisable  to  retain  what  Taxes  you  can  gather, 
to  pay  your  own  inevitable  expenditures.  Our  Revenue  is 
Assignats ;  emission  on  emission  of  Paper-money.  And  the 
Army ;  our  Three  grand  Armies,  of  Rochambeau,  of  Liickner, 
of  Lafayette  ?  Lean,  disconsolate  hover  these  Three  grand 
Armies,  watching  the  Frontiers  there ;  three  Flights  of  long- 
necked  Cranes  in  moulting-time  ; — wrecked,  disobedient,  dis- 
organised ;  who  never  saw  fire ;  the  old  Generals  and  Officers 
gone  across  the  Rhine.  War-Minister  Narbonne,  he  of  the 
rose-coloured  Reports,  solicits  recruitments,  equipments,  money, 
always  money ;  threatens,  since  he  can  get  none,  to  <  take  his 
sword,'  which  belongs  to  himself,  and  go  serve  his  country 
with  that.1 

The  question  of  questions  is  :  What  shall  be  done  ?  Shall 
we,  with  a  desperate  defiance  which  Fortune  sometimes  favours, 
draw  the  sword  at  once,  in  the  face  of  this  inrushing  world  of 
Emigration  and  Obscurantism ;  or  wait,  and  temporise  and 
diplomatise,  till,  if  possible,  our  resources  mature  themselves 
1  Moniteur,  Seance  du  23  Janvier  1792 ;  Biographic  des  Ministres,  §  Narbonne. 


1792]          BRIGANDS    AND    JALES  *85 

a  little  ?  And  yet  again,  are  our  resources  growing  towards 
maturity ;  or  growing  the  other  way  ?  Dubious  :  the  ablest 
Patriots  are  divided ;  Brissot  and  his  Brissotins,  or  Girondins, 
in  the  Legislative,  cry  aloud  for  the  former  defiant  plan ; 
Robespierre,  in  the  Jacobins,  pleads  as  loud  for  the  latter 
dilatory  one :  with  responses,  even  with  mutual  reprimands ; 
distracting  the  Mother  of  Patriotism.  Consider  also  what 
agitated  Breakfasts  there  may  be  at  Madame  d'Udon's  in  the 
Place  Vendome  !  The  alarm  of  all  men  is  great.  Help,  ye 
Patriots  ;  and  O  at  least  agree  ;  for  the  hour  presses.  Frost 
was  not  yet  gone,  when  in  that  *  tolerably  handsome  apart- 
ment of  the  Castle  of  Niort,'  there  arrived  a  Letter :  General 
Dumouriez  must  to  Paris.  It  is  War-Minister  Narbonne  that 
writes ;  the  General  shall  give  counsel  about  many  things.1 
In  the  month  of  February  1792,  Brissotm  friends  welcome 
their  Dumouriez  Polymetis, — comparable  really  to  an  antique 
Ulysses  in  modern  costume ;  quick,  elastic,  shifty,  insuppres- 
sible,  a '  many-counselled  man/ 

Let  the  Reader  fancy  this  fair  France  with  a  whole  Cim- 
merian Europe  girdling  her,  rolling  in  on  her,  black,  to  burst 
in  red  thunder  of  War ;  fair  France  herself  hand-shackled 
and  foot-shackled  in  the  weltering  complexities  of  this  Social 
Clothing,  or  Constitution,  which  they  have  made  for  her; 
a  France  that,  in  such  Constitution,  cannot  march !  And 
Hunger  too ;  and  plotting  Aristocrats,  and  excommunicating 
Dissident  Priests :  *  the  man  Lebrun  by  name '  urging  his 
black  u'/.v/,-/.  visible  to  the  eye ;  and,  still  more  terrible  in  hia 
invisibility,  Engineer  Goguelat,  with  Queen's  cipher,  riding 
and  running ! 

The  excommunicatory  Priests  give  new  trouble  in  the  Maine 
and  Loire;  La  Vendee,  nor  Cathelineau  the  wool-dealer,  has 
not  ceased  grumbling  and  rumbling.  Nay  behold  Jales  itself 
once  more :  how  often  does  that  real-imaginary  Camp  of  the 
Fiend  require  to  be  extinguished  !  For  near  two  years  now, 

1  Dumouriez,  ii.  c.  6. 


286  PARLIAMENT    FIRST     [BK.  v.  CH.  vi. 

it  has  waned  faint  and  again  waxed  bright,  in  the  bewildered 
soul  of  Patriotism :  actually,  if  Patriotism  knew  it,  one  of 
the  most  surprising  products  of  Nature  working  with  Art. 
Royalist  Seigneurs,  under  this  or  the  other  pretext,  assemble 
the  simple  people  of  these  Cevennes  Mountains ;  men  not 
unused  to  revolt,  and  with  heart  for  fighting,  could  their  poor 
heads  be  got  persuaded.  The  Royalist  Seigneur  harangues  ; 
harping  mainly  on  the  religious  string :  *  True  Priests  mal- 
treated, false  Priests  intruded,  Protestants  (once  dragooned) 
now  triumphing,  things  sacred  given  to  the  dogs ' ;  and  so 
produces,  from  the  pious  Mountaineer  throat,  rough  growl- 
ings  : — *  Shall  we  not  testify,  then,  ye  brave  hearts  of  the 
Cevennes  ;  march  to  the  rescue  ?  Holy  Religion  ;  duty  to 
God  and  the  King  ? ' — *  Si  fait,  si  fait.  Just  so,  just  so,' 
answer  the  brave  hearts  always  :  *  Mais  il  y  a  de  bien  bonnes 
choses  dans  la  Revolution,  But  there  are  main  good  things  in 
the  Revolution  too  ! ' — And  so  the  matter,  cajole  as  we  may, 
will  only  turn  on  its  axis,  not  stir  from  the  spot,  and  remains 
theatrical  merely.1 

Nevertheless  deepen  your  cajolery,  harp  quick  and  quicker, 
ye  Royalist  Seigneurs ;  with  a  dead-lift  effort  you  may  bring 
it  to  that.  In  the  month  of  June  next,  this  Camp  of  Jales 
will  step  forth  as  a  theatricality  suddenly  become  real ;  Two 
thousand  strong,  and  with  the  boast  that  it  is  Seventy 
thousand  :  most  strange  to  see ;  with  flags  flying,  bayonets 
fixed;  with  Proclamation,  and  D'Artois  Commission  of  civil 
war !  Let  some  Rebecqui,  or  other  the  like  hot-clear  Patriot ; 
let  some  'Lieutenant-Colonel  Aubry,'  if  Rebecqui  is  busy 
elsewhere,  raise  instantaneous  National  Guards,  and  disperse 
and  dissolve  it ;  and  blow  the  Old  Castle  asunder,2  that  so,  if 
possible,  we  hear  of  it  no  more  ! 

In  the  Months  of  February  and  March,  it  is  recorded,  the 
terror,  especially  of  rural  France,  had  risen  even  to  the  tran- 
scendental pitch  :  not  far  from  madness.  In  Town  and  Hamlet 
is  rumour,  of  war,  massacre  :  that  Austrians,  Aristocrats,  above 

*  Dampmartin,  i.  2OI.  *  Moniteur,  Seance  du  15  Juillet  1792. 


1791-92]    CONSTITUTION  WILL  NOT  MARCH    237 

all,  that  The  Brigands  are  close  by.  Men  quit  their  houses 
and  huts  ;  rush  fugitive,  shrieking,  with  wife  and  child,  they 
know  not  whither.  Such  a  terror,  the  eye-witnesses  say,  never 
fell  on  a  Nation  ;  nor  shall  again  fall,  even  in  Reigns  of 
Terror  expressly  so  called.  The  Countries  of  the  Loire,  all 
the  Central  and  Southeast  regions,  start  up  distracted,  *  simul- 
taneously as  by  an  electric  shock ' ; — for  indeed  grain  too  gets 
scarcer  and  scarcer.  *  The  people  barricade  the  entrances  of 
Towns,  pile  stones  in  the  upper  stories,  the  women  prepare 
boiling  water ;  from  moment  to  moment,  expecting  the  attack. 
In  the  Country,  the  alarm-bell  rings  incessant;  troops  of 
peasants,  gathered  by  it,  scour  the  highways,  seeking  an 
imaginary  enemy.  They  are  armed  mostly  with  scythes  stuck 
in  wood ;  and,  arriving  in  wild  troops  at  the  barricaded 
Towns,  are  themselves  sometimes  taken  for  Brigands.'  * 

So  rushes  old  France  :  old  France  is  rushing  down.  What 
the  end  will  be  is  known  to  no  mortal ;  that  the  end  is  near 
all  mortals  may  know. 


CHAPTER    VII 

CONSTITUTION    WILL   NOT   MARCH 

To  all  which  our  poor  Legislative,  tied  up  by  an  unmarch- 
ing  Constitution,  can  oppose  nothing,  by  way  of  remedy,  but 
mere  bursts  of  parliamentary  eloquence  !  They  go  on, 
debating,  denouncing,  objurgating :  loud  weltering  Chaos, 
which  devours  itself. 

But  their  two  thousand  and  odd  Decrees  ?  Reader,  these 
happily  concern  not  thee,  nor  me.  Mere  Occasional-Decrees, 
foolish  and  not  foolish ;  sufficient  for  that  day  was  its  own 
evil !  Of  the  whole  two  thousand  there  are  not  now  half  a 
score,  and  these  mostly  blighted  in  the  bud  by  royal  Veto, 
that  will  profit  or  disprofit  us.  On  the  17th  January,  the 
1  Newspapers,  etc.  (in  Hist.  Part.  ziiL  325). 


S38  PARLIAMENT    FIRST     [BK.  v.  CH.  VII. 

Legislative,  for  one  thing,  got  its  High  Court,  its  Haute  Cour, 
set  up  at  Orleans.  The  theory  had  been  given  by  the  Con- 
stituent, in  May  last,  but  this  is  the  reality  :  a  Court  for  the 
trial  of  Political  Offences  ;  a  Court  which  cannot  want  work. 
To  this  it  was  decreed  that  there  needed  no  royal  Acceptance, 
therefore  that  there  could  be  no  Veto.  Also  Priests  can  now 
be  married  ;  ever  since  last  October.  A  patriotic  adventurous 
Priest  had  made  bold  to  marry  himself  then  ;  and  not  thinking 
this  enough,  came  to  the  bar  with  his  new  spouse ;  that  the 
whole  world  might  hold  honeymoon  with  him,  and  a  Law  be 
obtained. 

Less  joyful  are  the  Laws  against  Refractory  Priests ;  and 
yet  not  less  needful !  Decrees  on  Priests  and  Decrees  on 
Emigrants  :  these  are  the  two  brief  Series  of  Decrees,  worked 
out  with  endless  debate,  and  then  cancelled  by  Veto,  which 
mainly  concern  us  here.  For  an  august  National  Assembly 
must  needs  conquer  these  Refractories,  Clerical  or  Laic,  and 
thumbscrew  them  into  obedience :  yet,  behold,  always  as  you 
turn  your  legislative  thumbscrew,  and  will  press  and  even 
crush  till  Refractories  give  way, — King's  Veto  steps  in  with 
magical  paralysis ;  and  your  thumbscrew,  hardly  squeezing, 
much  less  crushing,  does  not  act ! 

Truly  a  melancholy  Set  of  Decrees,  a  pair  of  Sets ; 
paralysed  by  Veto  \  First,  under  date  the  28th  of  October 
1791,  we  have  Legislative  Proclamation,  issued  by  herald  and 
bill-sticker ;  inviting  Monsieur,  the  King's  Brother,  to  return 
within  two  months,  under  penalties.  To  which  invitation 
Monsieur  replies  nothing ;  or  indeed  replies  by  Newspaper 
Parody,  inviting  the  august  Legislative  *  to  return  to  common 
sense  within  two  months,'  under  penalties.  Whereupon  the 
Legislative  must  take  stronger  measures.  So,  on  the  9th  of 
November,  we  declare  all  Emigrants  to  be  *  suspect  of  con- 
spiracy'; and,  in  brief,  to  be  *  outlawed,'  if  they  have  not 
returned  at  Newyear's-day  : — Will  the  King  say  Veto  ?  That 
*  triple  impost '  shall  be  levied  on  these  men's  Properties,  or 
even  their  Properties  be  •'  put  in  sequestration,'  one  can  under- 


1791-92]   CONSTITUTION  WILL  NOT  MARCH    239 

stand.  But  further,  on  Newyear's-day  itself,  not  an  individual 
having  *  returned,'  we  declare,  and  with  fresh  emphasis  some 
fortnight  later  again  declare,  That  Monsieur  is  dahu,  for- 
feited of  his  eventful  Heirship  to  the  Crown ;  nay  more,  that 
Conde,  Calonne,  and  a  considerable  List  of  others  are  accused 
of  high  treason ;  and  shall  be  judged  by  our  High  Court  of 
Orleans  :  Veto ! — Then  again  as  to  Non-jurant  Priests  :  it  was 
decreed,  in  November  last,  that  they  should  forfeit  what 
Pensions  they  had ;  be  '  put  under  inspection,  under  furveil- 
lance?  and,  if  need  were,  be  banished  :  Veto !  A  still  sharper 
turn  is  coming ;  but  to  this  also  the  answer  will  be,  Veto. 

Veto  after  Veto ;  your  thumbscrew  paralysed  !  Gods  and 
men  may  see  that  the  Legislative  is  in  a  false  position.  As, 
alas,  who  is  in  a  true  one  ?  Voices  already  murmur  for  a 

*  National  Convention.' *     This  poor  Legislative,  spurred  and 
stung   into  action   by  a  whole  France  and  a  whole  Europe, 
cannot  act ;   can  only  objurgate  and  perorate ;   with  stormy 

*  motions,'  and  motion  in  which  is  no  way ;  with  effervescence, 
with  noise  and  fuliginous  fury  ! 

What  scenes  in  that  National  Hall !  President  jingling  his 
inaudible  bell ;  or,  as  utmost  signal  of  distress,  clapping  on 
his  hat ;  *  the  tumult  subsiding  in  twenty  minutes,'  and  this 
or  the  other  indiscreet  Member  sent  to  the  Abbaye  Prison 
for  three  days !  Suspected  Persons  must  be  summoned  and 
questioned ;  old  M.  de  Sombreuil  of  the  Invalidea  has  to  give 
account  of  himself,  and  why  he  leaves  his  Gates  open. 
Unusual  smoke  rose  from  the  Sevres  Pottery,  indicating 
conspiracy ;  the  Potters  explained  that  it  was  Necklace- 
Lamotte's  Menioires,  bought  up  by  her  Majesty,  which  they 
were  endeavouring  to  suppress  by  fire,8  which  nevertheless  he 
that  runs  may  still  read. 

Again,  it  would  seem,  Duke  de  Brissac  and  the  King's 
Constitutional-Guard  are  *  making  cartridges  secretly  in  the 
cellars ' :  a  set  of  Royalists,  pure  and  impure ;  black  cut- 

1  December  1791  (Hist.  Part.  xii.  257). 

1  Moniieur,  Seance  du  28  Mai  1792  ;  Campan,  ii.  196. 


240  PARLIAMENT   FIRST     [BK.  v.  CH.  vil. 

throats  many  of  them,  picked  out  of  gaming-houses  and 
sinks ;  in  all  Six  thousand  instead  of  Eighteen  hundred ;  who 
evidently  gloom  on  us  every  time  we  enter  the  Chateau.1 
Wherefore,  with  infinite  debate,  let  Brissac  and  King's  Guard, 
be  disbanded.  Disbanded  accordingly  they  are ;  after  only 
two  months  of  existence,  for  they  did  not  get  on  foot  till 
March  of  this  same  year.  So  ends  briefly  the  King's  new 
Constitutional  Maison  Militaire ;  he  must  now  be  guarded  by 
mere  Swiss  and  blue  Nationals  again.  It  seems  the  lot  of 
Constitutional  things.  New  Constitutional  Maison  Civile  he 
would  never  even  establish,  much  as  Barnave  urged  it ;  old 
resident  Duchesses  sniffed  at  it,  and  held  aloof;  on  the  whole 
her  Majesty  thought  it  not  worth  while,  the  Noblesse  would 
so  soon  be  back  triumphant.8 

Or,  looking  still  into  this  National  Hall  and  its  scenes, 
behold  Bishop  Torne,  a  Constitutional  Prelate,  not  of  severe 
morals,  demanding  that  '  religious  costumes  and  such  carica- 
tures '  be  abolished.  Bishop  Torne  warms,  catches  fire ; 
finishes  by  untying,  and  indignantly  flinging  on  the  table,  as 
if  for  gage  or  bet,  his  own  pontifical  cross.  Which  cross,  at 
any  rate,  is  instantly  covered  by  the  cross  of  Te-Deum 
Fauchet,  then  by  other  crosses  and  insignia,  till  all  are 
stripped;  this  clerical  Senator  clutching  off  his  skull-cap, 
that  other  his  frill-collar, — lest  Fanaticism  return  on  us.8 

Quick  is  the  movement  here !  And  then  so  confused,  un- 
substantial, you  might  call  it  almost  spectral:  pallid,  dim, 
inane,  like  the  Kingdoms  of  Dis  !  Unruly  Linguet,  shrunk  to 
a  kind  of  spectre  for  us,  pleads  here  some  cause  that  he  has ; 
amid  rumour  and  interruption,  which  excel  human  patience : 
he  *  tears  his  papers,  and  withdraws,'  the  irascible  adust  little 
man.  Nay  honourable  Members  will  tear  their  papers,  being 
effervescent :  Merlin  of  Thionville  tears  his  papers,  crying  • 
*  So,  the  People  cannot  be  saved  by  you  \ '  Nor  are  Depu- 
tations wanting  :  Deputations  of  Sections  ;  generally  with 

1  Dumouriez,  ii.  168.  *  Cam  pan,  ii.  c.  19. 

f  Monitcur,  du  7  Avril  1792  ;  Deux  Amis,  vii.  III. 


1792]     CONSTITUTION   WILL   NOT   MARCH       241 

complaint  and  denouncement,  always  with  Patriot  fervour  of 
sentiment :  Deputation  of  Women,  pleading  that  they  also 
may  be  allowed  to  take  Pikes,  and  exercise  in  the  Champ- 
de-Mars.  Why  not,  ye  Amazons,  if  it  be  in  you  ?  Then 
occasionally,  having  done  our  message  and  got  answer,  we 
*  defile  through  the  Hall  singing  f  a-ira ' ;  or  rather  roll  and 
whirl  through  it,  'dancing  our  ronde  patriotique  the  while,1 
— our  new  Carmagnole,  or  Pyrrhic  war-dance  and  liberty- 
dance.  Patriot  Huguenin,  Ex-Advocate,  Ex-Carbineer,  Ex- 
Clerk  of  the  Barriers,  comes  deputed,  with  Saint- Antoine  at 
his  heels ;  denouncing  Anti-patriotism,  Famine,  Forestalment 
and  Man-eaters  ;  asks  an  august  Legislative  :  '  Is  there  not  a 
tocsin  in  your  hearts  against  these  mangeurs  (Thommes !  '* 

But  above  all  things,  for  this  is  a  continual  business,  the 
Legislative  has  to  reprimand  the  King's  Ministers.  Of  his 
Majesty's  Ministers  we  have  said  hitherto,  and  say,  next  to 
nothing.  Still  more  spectral  these  !  Sorrowful ;  of  no 
permanency  any  of  them,  none  at  least  since  Montmorin 
vanished :  the  *  eldest  of  the  King's  Council '  is  occasionally 
not  ten  days  old.8  Feuillant-Constitutional,  as  your  re- 
spectable Cahier  de  Gerville,  as  your  respectable  unfortunate 
Delessarts ;  or  Royalist-Constitutional,  as  Montmorin  last 
Friend  of  Necker ;  or  Aristocrat,  as  Bertrand-Moleville  :  they 
flit  there  phantom-like,  in  the  huge  simmering  confusion ; 
poor  shadows,  dashed  in  the  racking  winds ;  powerless,  with- 
out meaning ; — whom  the  human  memory  need  not  charge 
itself  with. 

But  how  often,  we  say,  are  these  poor  Majesty's  Ministers 
summoned  over ;  to  be  questioned,  tutored ;  nay  threatened, 
almost  bullied  !  They  answer  what,  with  adroitest  simulation 
and  casuistry,  they  can :  of  which  a  poor  Legislative  knows 
not  what  to  make.  One  thing  only  is  clear,  That  Cimmerian 
Europe  is  girdling  us  in  ;  that  France  (not  actually  dead, 
surely  ?)  cannot  march.  Have  a  care,  ye  Ministers  !  Sharp 
Guadet  transfixes  you  with  cross-questions,  with  sudden 
1  See  Moniteur,  Seances  (in  Hist.  Parl.  xiiL  xiv.).  *  Dumouriez,  ii.  137. 

VOL.  ii.  Q 


242          PARLIAMENT    FIRST     [BK.  v.  CH.  vm. 

Advocate-conclusions  ;  the  sleeping  tempest  that  is  in  Ver- 
gniaud  can  be  awakened.  Restless  Brissot  brings  up  Reports, 
Accusations,  endless  thin  Logic ;  it  is  the  man's  highday  even 
now.  Condorcet  redacts,  with  his  firm  pen,  our  *  Address  of 
the  Legislative  Assembly  to  the  French  Nation.'1  Fiery  Max 
Isnard,  who,  for  the  rest,  will  *  carry  not  Fire  and  Sword '  on 
those  Cimmerian  Enemies,  4  but  Liberty,' — is  for  declaring 
'that  we  hold  Ministers  responsible;  and  that  by  responsi- 
bility we  mean  death,  nous  entendons  la  mart."1 

For  verily  it  grows  serious :  the  time  presses,  and  traitors 
there  are.  Bertrand-Moleville  has  a  smooth  tongue,  the 
known  Aristocrat ;  gall  in  his  heart.  How  his  answers  and 
explanations  flow  ready ;  Jesuitic,  plausible  to  the  ear  !  But 
perhaps  the  notablest  is  this,  which  befell  once  when  Bertrand 
had  done  answering  and  was  withdrawn.  Scarcely  had  the 
august  Assembly  begun  considering  what  was  to  be  done  with 
him,  when  the  Hall  fills  with  smoke.  Thick  sour  smoke :  no 
oratory,  only  wheezing  and  barking  ; — irremediable  ;  so  that 
the  august  Assembly  has  to  adjourn  !2  A  miracle  ?  Typical 
miracle  ?  One  knows  not :  only  this  one  seems  to  know, 
that  '  the  Keeper  of  the  Stoves  was  appointed  by  Bertrand ' 
or  by  some  underling  of  his  ! — 0  fuliginous  confused  Kingdom 
of  Dis,  with  thy  Tantalus-Ixion  toils,  with  thy  angry  Fire- 
floods,  and  Streams  named  of  Lamentation,  why  hast  thou 
not  thy  Lethe  too,  that  so  one  might  finish? 


CHAPTER    VIII 

THE   JACOBINS 

NEVERTHELESS  let  not  Patriotism  despair.     Have  we  not, 
in    Paris    at    least,    a    virtuous    Petion,    a    wholly    Patriotic 

1  l6th  February  1792  (Choix  des  Rapports,  viii.  375-92). 

*  Courtier  de  Paris,  14  Janvier  1792  (Gorsas's  Newspaper),  in  Hist.  Parl. 

xiii.  83. 


1792]  THE    JACOBINS  243 

Municipality  ?  Virtuous  Petion,  ever  since  November,  is 
Mayor  of  Paris  :  in  our  Municipality,  the  Public,  for  the 
Public  is  now  admitted  too,  may  behold  an  energetic  Danton  ; 
further  an  epigrammatic  slow-sure  Manuel ;  a  resolute  unre- 
pentant Billaud-Varennes,  of  Jesuit  breeding;  Tallien  able- 
editor  ;  and  nothing  but  Patriots,  better  or  worse.  So  ran 
the  November  Elections :  to  the  joy  of  most  citizens ;  nay 
the  very  Court  supported  Petion  rather  than  Lafayette.  And 
so  Bailly  and  his  Feuillants,  long  waning  like  the  Moon,  had 
to  withdraw  then,  making  some  sorrowful  obeisance,1  into 
extinction  : — or  indeed  into  worse,  into  lurid  half-light, 
grimmed  by  the  shadow  of  that  Red  Flag  of  theirs,  and  bitter 
memory  of  the  Champ-de-Mars.  How  swift  is  the  progress  of 
things  and  men  !  Not  now  does  Lafayette,  as  on  that  Federa- 
tion-day, when  his  noon  was,  *  press  his  sword  firmly  on  the 
Fatherland^s  Altar,'  and  swear  in  sight  of  France  :  ah  no  ;  he, 
waning  and  setting  ever  since  that  hour,  hangs  now,  disastrous, 
on  the  edge  of  the  horizon  ;  commanding  one  of  those  Three 
moulting  Crane-flights  of  Armies,  in  a  most  suspected,  un- 
fruitful, uncomfortable  manner. 

But,  at  worst,  cannot  Patriotism,  so  many  thousands  strong 
in  this  Metropolis  of  the  Universe,  help  itself?  Has  it  not 
right-hands,  pikes  ?  Hammering  of  Pikes,  which  was  not  to 
be  prohibited  by  Mayor  Bailly,  has  been  sanctioned  by  Mayor 
Petion  ;  sanctioned  by  Legislative  Assembly.  How  not,  when 
the  King's  so-called  Constitutional  Guard  *  was  making  cart- 
ridges in  secret '  ?  Changes  are  necessary  for  the  National 
Guard  itself;  this  whole  Feuillant- Aristocrat  Staff  of  the 
Guard  must  be  disbanded.  Likewise,  citizens  without  uniform 
may  surely  rank  in  the  Guard,  the  pike  beside  the  musket,  in 
such  a  time :  the  *  active '  citizen  and  the  passive  who  can 
fight  for  us,  are  they  not  both  welcome  ? — Oh  my  Patriot 
friends,  indubitably  Yes  !  Nay  the  truth  is,  Patriotism 
throughout,  were  it  never  so  white-frilled,  logical,  respectable, 
must  either  lean  itself  heartily  on  Sansculottism,  the  black, 

1  Diicours  de  Bailly,  Rtponst  dt  Pition  (Montieur  da  2O  Novembre  1791). 


244          PARLIAMENT    FIRST     [BK.  v.  CH.  viil. 

bottomless ;  or  else  vanish,  in  the  frightfulest  way,  to  Limbo  ! 
Thus  some,  with  upturned  nose,  will  altogether  sniff  and 
disdain  Sansculottism  ;  others  will  lean  heartily  on  it ;  nay 
others  again  will  lean  what  we  call  heartlessly  on  it :  three 
sorts ;  each  sort  with  a  destiny  corresponding. 

In  such  point  of  view,  however,  have  we  not  for  the  present 
a  Volunteer  Ally,  stronger  than  all  the  rest ;  namely,  Hunger  ? 
Hunger ;  and  what  rushing  of  Panic  Terror  this  and  the  sum- 
total  of  our  other  miseries  may  bring  !  For  Sansculottism 
grows  by  what  all  other  things  die  of.  Stupid  Peter  Bailie 
almost  made  an  epigram,  though  unconsciously,  and  with  the 
Patriot  world  laughing  not  at  it  but  at  him,  when  he  wrote : 
*  Tout  va  bien  id,  le  pain  manque,  All  goes  well  here,  food  is 
not  to  be  had.' J 

Neither,  if  you  knew  it,  is  Patriotism  without  her  Constitu- 
tion that  can  march  ;  her  not  impotent  Parliament ;  or  call  it, 
Ecumenic  Council,  and  General- Assembly  of  the  Jean-Jacques 
Churches  :  the  MOTHER  SOCIETY,  namely  !  Mother  Society 
with  her  three  hundred  full-grown  Daughters ;  with  what 
we  can  call  little  Grand-daughters  trying  to  walk,  hi  every 
village  of  France,  numerable,  as  Burke  thinks,  by  the  hundred 
thousand.  This  is  the  true  Constitution ;  made  not  by 
Twelve  hundred  august  Senators,  but  by  Nature  herself;  and 
has  grown,  unconsciously,  out  of  the  wants  and  the  efforts  of 
these  Twenty-five  Millions  of  men.  They  are  *  Lords  of  the 
Articles,'  our  Jacobins;  they  originate  debates  for  the  Legisla- 
tive ;  discuss  Peace  and  War ;  settle  beforehand  what  the 
Legislative  is  to  do.  Greatly  to  the  scandal  of  philosophical 
men,  and  of  most  Historians; — who  do  in  that  judge  naturally, 
and  yet  not  wisely.  A  Governing  power  must  exist :  your 
other  powers  here  are  simulacra ;  this  power  is  it. 

Great  is  the  Mother  Society ;  she  has  had  the  honour  to 
be  denounced  by  Austrian  Kaunitz;8  and  is  all  the  dearer 
to  Patriotism.  By  fortune  and  valour  she  has  extinguished 
Feuillantism  itself,  at  least  the  Feuillant  Club.  This  latter, 

1  Barbaroux,  p.  94.  %  Moviteur,  Seance  du  20  Mars  1792. 


1792]  THE    JACOBINS  f45 

high  as  it  once  carried  its  head,  she,  on  the  18th  of  February, 
has  the  satisfaction  to  see  shut,  extinct ;  Patriots  having  gone 
thither,  with  tumult,  to  hiss  it  out  of  pain.  The  Mother 
Society  has  enlarged  her  locality,  stretches  now  over  the  whole 
nave  of  the  Church.  Let  us  glance  in,  with  the  worthy 
Toulongeon,  our  old  Ex-Constituent  Friend,  who  happily  has 
eyes  to  see.  *  The  nave  of  the  Jacobins  Church,'  says  he,  *  is 
changed  into  a  vast  Circus,  the  seats  of  which  mount  up  circu- 
larly, like  an  amphitheatre  to  the  very  groin  of  the  domed 
roof.  A  high  Pyramid  of  black  marble,  built  against  one  of  the 
walls,  which  was  formerly  a  funeral  monument,  has  alone  been 
left  standing  :  it  serves  now  as  back  to  the  Office-bearers' 
Bureau.  Here  on  an  elevated  Platform  sit  President  and 
Secretaries,  behind  and  above  them  the  white  Busts  of  Mira- 
beau,  of  Franklin,  and  various  others,  nay  finally  of  Marat. 
Facing  this  is  the  Tribune,  raised  till  it  is  midway  between 
floor  and  groin  of  the  dome,  so  that  the  speaker's  voice  may 
be  in  the  centre.  From  that  point  thunder  the  voices  which 
shake  all  Europe  :  down  below,  in  silence,  are  forging  the 
thunderbolts  and  the  fire-brands.  Penetrating  into  this  huge 
circuit,  where  all  is  out  of  measure,  gigantic,  the  mind  cannot 
repress  some  movement  of  terror  and  wonder;  the  imagination 
recalls  those  dread  temples  which  Poetry,  of  old,  had  conse- 
crated to  the  Avenging  Deities.' l 

Scenes  too  are  in  this  Jacobin  Amphitheatre, — had  History 
time  for  them.  Flags  of  the  *  Three  Free  Peoples  of  the 
Universe,'  trinal  brotherly  flags  of  England,  America,  France, 
have  been  waved  here  in  concert ;  by  London  Deputation,  of 
Whigs  or  Wighs  and  their  Club,  on  this  hand,  and  by  young 
French  Citoyennes  on  that ;  beautiful  sweet-tongued  Female 
Citizens,  who  solemnly  send  over  salutation  and  brotherhood, 
also  Tricolor  stitched  by  their  own  needle,  and  finally  Ears  of 
Wheat ;  while  the  dome  rebellows  with  Vivent  les  trois  peuples 
Itbres !  from  all  throats  : — a  most  dramatic  scene.  Demoiselle 
Thcroigne  recites,  from  that  Tribune  in  mid  air,  her  per- 

1  Toulongeon,  ii.  124. 


246          PARLIAMENT    FIRST     [BK.  v.  CH.  vm. 

secutions  in  Austria;  comes  leaning  on  the  arm  of  Joseph 
Che'nier,  Poet  Che'nier,  to  demand  Liberty  for  the  hapless 
Swiss  of  Chateau- Vieux.1  Be  of  hope,  ye  forty  Swiss ;  tugging 
there,  in  the  Brest  waters ;  not  forgotten  ! 

Deputy  Brissot  perorates  from  that  Tribune ;  Desmoulins, 
our  wicked  Camille,  interjecting  audibly  from  below, '  Coquin  f 
Here,  though  oftener  in  the  Cordeliers,  reverberates  the  lion- 
voice  of  Danton ;  grim  Billaud-Varennes  is  here ;  Collot 
d'Herbois,  pleading  for  the  forty  Swiss,  tearing  a  passion  to 
rags.  Apophthegmatic  Manuel  winds  up  in  this  pithy  way  • 
'  A  Minister  must  perish  ! ' — to  which  the  Amphitheatre 
responds  ;  '  Tous,  T&us,  All,  All ! '  But  the  Chief  Priest  and 
Speaker  of  this  place,  as  we  said,  is  Robespierre,  the  long- 
winded  incorruptible  man.  What  spirit  of  Patriotism  dwelt 
in  men  in  those  times,  this  one  fact,  it  seems  to  us,  will  evince : 
that  fifteen  hundred  human  creatures,  not  bound  to  it,  sat 
quiet  under  the  oratory  of  Robespierre ;  nay  listened  nightly, 
hour  after  hour,  applausive ;  and  gaped  as  for  the  word  of 
life.  More  insupportable  individual,  one  would  say,  seldom 
opened  his  mouth  in  any  Tribune.  Acrid,  implacable- 
impotent;  dull-drawling,  barren  as  the  Harmattan  wind. 
He  pleads,  in  endless  earnest-shallow  speech,  against  immediate 
War,  against  Wollen  Caps  or  Bonnets  Rouges,  against  many 
things ;  and  is  the  Trismegistus  and  Dalai-Lama  of  Patriot 
men.  Whom  nevertheless  a  shrill-voiced  little  man,  yet  with 
fine  eyes  and  a  broad  beautifully  sloping  brow,  rises  respect- 
fully to  controvert ;  he  is,  say  the  Newspaper  Reporters, 
*M.  Louvet,  Author  of  the  charming  Romance  of  FaublasS 
Steady,  ye  Patriots  !  Pull  not  yet  two  ways  ;  with  a  France 
rushing  panic-stricken  in  the  rural  districts,  and  a  Cimmerian 
Europe  storming  in  on  you  ! 

1  Dtbats  desjacobin$  (Hist.  Parl.  xiii.  259,  etc.). 


MARCH  1792]      MINISTER    ROLAND  247 

CHAPTER   IX 

MINISTER  ROLAND 

ABOUT  the  vernal  equinox,  however,  one  unexpected  gleam 
of  hope  does  burst  forth  on  Patriotism  :  the  appointment  of  a 
thoroughly  Patriot  Ministry.  This  also  his  Majesty,  among 
his  innumerable  experiments  of  wedding  fire  to  water,  will  try. 
Quod  bonum  sit.  Madame  d^Udon's  Breakfasts  have  jingled 
with  a  new  significance ;  not  even  Genevese  Dumont  but  had 
a  word  in  it.  Finally,  on  the  15th  and  onwards  to  the  23d 
day  of  March  1792,  when  all  is  negotiated, — this  is  the 
blessed  issue ;  this  Patriot  Ministry  that  we  see. 

General  Dumouriez,  with  the  Foreign  Portfolio,  shall  ply 
Eaunitz  and  the  Kaiser,  in  another  style  than  did  poor 
Delessarts ;  whom  indeed  we  have  sent  to  our  High  Court  of 
Orleans  for  his  sluggishness.  War-Minister  Narbonne  is 
washed  away  by  the  Time-flood ;  poor  Chevalier  de  Grave, 
chosen  by  the  Court,  is  fast  washing  away :  then  shall  austere 
Servan,  able  Engineer-Officer,  mount  suddenly  to  the  War 
Department.  Genevese  Claviere  sees  an  omen  realised; 
passing  the  Finance  Hotel,  long  years  ago,  as  a  poor  Genevese 
exile,  it  was  borne  wondrously  on  his  mind  that  he  was  to  be 
Finance-Minister;  and  now  he  is  it; — and  his  poor  Wife, 
given  up  by  the  Doctors,  rises  and  walks,  not  the  victim  of 
nerves  but  their  vanquisher.1  And  above  all,  our  Minister  of 
the  Interior  ?  Roland  de  la  Platriere,  he  of  Lyons  !  So  have 
the  Brissotins,  public  or  private  Opinion,  and  Breakfasts  in 
the  Place  Vendome,  decided  it  Strict  Roland,  compared  to 
a  Quaker  endimancht,  or  Sunday  Quaker,  goes  to  kiss  hands 
at  the  Tuileries,  in  round  hat  and  sleek  hair,  his  shoes  tied 
with  mere  riband  or  ferret.  The  Supreme  Usher  twitches 
Dumouriez  aside :  *  Quoi,  Monsieur !  No  buckles  to  his 

1  Dumont,  c.  20,  31. 


248  PARLIAMENT    FIRST     [BK.  v.  CH.  ix. 

shoes?'  —  'Ah,    Monsieur,'     answers    Dumouriez,    glancing 
towards  the  ferrat :  *  All  is  lost,  Tout  est  perdu."1 1 

And  so  our  fair  Roland  removes  from  her  upper-floor 
in  the  Rue  Saint-Jacques,  to  the  sumptuous  saloons  once 
occupied  by  Madame  Necker.  Nay  still  earlier,  it  was 
Calonne  that  did  all  this  gilding;  it  was  he  who  ground 
these  lustres,  Venetian  mirrors ;  who  polished  this  inlaying, 
this  veneering  and  or-moulu ;  and  made  it,  by  rubbing  of  the 
proper  lamp,  an  Aladdin's  Palace :  —  and  now  behold,  he 
wanders  dim-flitting  over  Europe ;  half-drowned  in  the  Rhine- 
stream,  scarcely  saving  his  Papers  !  Vos  non  voibis. — The  fair 
Roland,  equal  to  either  fortune,  has  her  public  Dinner  on 
Fridays,  the  Ministers  all  there  in  a  body :  she  withdraws  to 
her  desk  (the  cloth  once  removed),  and  seems  busy  writing ; 
nevertheless  loses  no  word :  if,  for  example,  Deputy  Brissot 
and  Minister  Claviere  get  too  hot  in  argument,  she,  not 
without  timidity,  yet  with  a  cunning  gracefulness,  will  inter- 
pose. Deputy  Brissofs  head,  they  say,  is  getting  giddy,  in 
this  sudden  height ;  as  feeble  heads  do. 

Envious  men  insinuate  that  the  Wife  Roland  is  Minister, 
and  not  the  Husband:  it  is  happily  the  worst  they  have  to 
charge  her  with.  For  the  rest,  let  whose  head  soever  be 
getting  giddy,  it  is  not  this  brave  woman's.  Serene  and 
queenly  here,  as  she  was  of  old  in  her  own  hired  garret  of  the 
Ursulines  Convent !  She  who  has  quietly  shelled  French- 
beans  for  her  dinner ;  being  led  to  that,  as  a  young  maiden, 
by  quiet  insight  and  computation ;  and  knowing  what  that 
was,  and  what  she  was :  such  a  one  will  also  look  quietly  on 
or-moulu  and  veneering,  not  ignorant  of  these  either.  Calonne 
did  the  veneering :  he  gave  dinners  here,  old  Besenval  diplo- 
matically whispering  to  him ;  and  was  great :  yet  Calonne  we 
saw  at  last  *  walk  with  long  strides.'  Necker  next ;  and 
where  now  is  Necker  ?  Us  also  a  swift  change  has  brought 
hither ;  a  swift  change  will  send  us  hence.  Not  a  Palace  but 
a  Caravansera  ! 

1  Madame  Roland,  ii.  80-115 


MARCH  1792]        MINISTER    ROLAND  £49 

So  wags  and  wavers  this  unrestful  World,  day  after  day, 
month  after  month.  The  streets  of  Paris,  and  all  Cities,  roll 
daily  their  oscillatory  flood  of  men ;  which  flood  does  nightly 
disappear,  and  lie  hidden  horizontal  in  beds  and  truckle-beds ; 
and  awakes  on  the  morrow  to  new  perpendicularity  and  move- 
ment. Men  go  their  roads,  foolish  or  wise;  —  Engineer 
Goguelat  to  and  fro,  bearing  Queen's  cipher.  A  Madame  de 
Stael  is  busy ;  cannot  clutch  her  Narbonne  from  the  Time- 
flood  :  a  Princess  de  Lamballe  is  busy ;  cannot  help  her 
Queen.  Barnave,  seeing  the  Feuillants  dispersed,  and  Coblentz 
so  brisk  begs  by  way  of  final  recompense  to  kiss  her  Majesty's 
hand  ;  *  augurs  not  well  of  her  new  course ' ;  and  retires  home 
to  Grenoble,  to  wed  an  heiress  there.  The  Cafe'  Valois  and 
MeV)t  the  Restaurateur's  hear  daily  gasconade ;  loud  babble  of 
Half-pay  Royalists,  with  or  without  poniards.  Remnants  of 
Aristocrat  saloons  call  the  new  Ministry  Ministere-Sansculotte. 
A  Louvet,  of  the  Romance  Faublas,  is  busy  in  the  Jacobins. 
A  Cazotte,  of  the  Romance  Diable  Amoureux,  is  busy  else- 
where :  better  wert  thou  quiet,  old  Cazotte ;  it  is  a  world, 
this,  of  magic  become  real !  All  men  are  busy ;  doing  they 
only  half  guess  what: — flinging  seeds,  of  tares  mostly,  into  the 
'Seed-field  of  TIME':  this,  by  and  by,  will  declare  wholly  what 

But  Social  Explosions  have  in  them  something  dread,  and 
as  it  were  mad  and  magical ;  which  indeed  Life  always  secretly 
has :  thus  the  dumb  Earth  (says  Fable),  if  you  pull  her 
mandrake-roots,  will  give  a  daemonic  mad-making  moan. 
These  Explosions  and  Revolts  ripen,  break  forth  like  dumb 
dread  Forces  of  Nature ;  and  yet  they  are  Men's  forces ;  and 
yet  we  are  part  of  them  :  the  Daemonic  that  is  in  man's  life 
has  burst  out  on  us,  will  sweep  us  too  away ! — One  day  here 
is  like  another,  and  yet  it  is  not  like  but  different  How 
much  is  growing,  silently  resistless,  at  all  moments  !  Thoughts 
are  growing ;  forms  of  Speech  are  growing,  and  Customs  and 
even  Costumes ;  still  more  visibly  are  actions  and  transactions 
growing,  and  that  doomed  Strife  of  France  with  herself  and 
with  the  whole  world. 


250  PARLIAMENT    FIRST      [BK.  v.  CH.  ix. 

The  word  Liberty  is  never  named  now  except  in  conjunction 
with  another ;  Liberty  and  Equality.  In  like  manner,  what, 
hi  a  reign  of  Liberty  and  Equality,  can  these  words,  *  Sir,' 
*  Obedient  Servant,'  *  Honour  to  be,'  and  suchlike,  signify  ? 
Tatters  and  fibres  of  old  Feudality ;  which,  were  it  only  in 
the  Grammatical  province,  ought  to  be  rooted  out !  The 
Mother  Society  has  long  since  had  proposals  to  that  effect : 
these  she  could  not  entertain ;  not,  at  the  moment.  Note 
too  how  the  Jacobin  Brethren  are  mounting  new  Symbolical 
head-gear:  the  Woollen  Cap  or  Nightcap,  bonnet  de  lame, 
better  known  as  bonnet  rouge^  the  colour  being  red.  A  thing 
one  wears  not  only  by  way  of  Phrygian  Cap-of-Liberty,  but 
also  for  convenience-sake,  and  then  also  hi  compliment  to 
the  Lower-class  Patriots  and  Bastille  Heroes ;  for  the  Red 
Nightcap  combines  all  the  three  properties.  Nay  cockades 
themselves  begin  to  be  made  of  wool,  of  tricolor  yarn :  the 
riband-cockade,  as  a  symptom  of  Feuillant  Upper-class  temper, 
is  becoming  suspicious.  Signs  of  the  times. 

Still  more,  note  the  travail-throes  of  Europe :  or  rather, 
note  the  birth  she  brings ;  for  the  successive  throes  and 
shrieks,  of  Austrian  and  Prussian  Alliance,  of  Kaunitz  Anti- 
Jacobin  Despatch,  of  French  Ambassadors  cast  out,  and  so 
forth,  were  long  to  note.  Dumouriez  corresponds  with 
Kaunitz,  Metternich,  or  Cobentzel,  in  another  style  than  Deles- 
sarts  did.  Strict  becomes  stricter ;  categorical  answer,  as  to 
this  Coblentz  work  and  much  else,  shall  be  given.  Failing 
which?  Failing  which,  on  the  20th  day  of  April  1792, 
King  and  Ministers  step  over  to  the  Salle  de  Manege ;  pro- 
mulgate how  the  matter  stands  ;  and  poor  Louis,  *  with  tears 
in  his  eyes,'  proposes  that  the  Assembly  do  now  decree  War. 
After  due  eloquence,  War  is  decreed  that  night. 

War,  indeed  !     Paris  came  all  crowding,  full  of  expectancy, 

to    the    morning,    and    still    more    to    the    evening,   session. 

D'Orleans  with  his  two  sons  is  there;  looks  on,  wide-eyed, 

from  the  opposite  gallery.1     Thou  canst  look,  O  Philippe  :  it 

1  Deux  Amis,  vii.  146-66. 


MARCH-APRIL  1792]     PETION-NATIONAL-PIQUE      251 

is  a  War  big  with  issues,  for  thee  and  for  all  men.  Cim- 
merian Obscurantism  and  this  thrice-glorious  Revolution  shall 
wrestle  for  it,  then :  some  Four-and-Twenty  years ;  in  im- 
measurable Briareus  wrestle ;  trampling  and  tearing ;  before 
they  can  come  to  any,  not  agreement,  but  compromise,  and 
approximate  ascertainment  each  of  what  is  in  the  other. 

Let  our  Three  Generals  on  the  Frontiers  look  to  it,  there- 
fore ;  and  poor  Chevalier  de  Grave,  the  War-Minister,  con- 
sider what  he  will  do.  What  is  in  the  three  Generals  and 
Armies  we  may  guess.  As  for  poor  Chevalier  de  Grave,  he, 
in  this  whirl  of  tilings  all  coming  to  a  press  and  pinch  upon 
him,  loses  head,  and  merely  whirls  with  them,  in  a  totally  dis- 
tracted manner ;  signing  himself  at  last,  *  De  Grave,  Mayor 
of  Paris ' ;  whereupon  he  demits,  returns  over  the  Channel, 
to  walk  in  Kensington  Gardens ;  *  and  austere  Servan,  the 
able  Engineer-Officer,  is  elevated  in  his  stead.  To  the  post 
of  Honour  ?  To  that  of  Difficulty,  at  least. 


CHAPTER   X 

PETION-NATIONAL-PIQUE 

AND  yet,  how,  on  dark  bottomless  Cataracts  there  plays 
the  foolishest  fantastic-coloured  spray  and  shadow  ;  hiding  the 
Abyss  under  vapoury  rainbows  !  Alongside  of  this  discussion 
as  to  Austrian-Prussian  War,  there  goes  on  not  less  but  more 
vehemently  a  discussion,  Whethei  the  Forty  or  Two-and- 
Forty  Swiss  of  Chateau- Vieux  shall  be  liberated  from  the  Brest 
Galleys?  And  then,  Whether,  being  liberated,  they  shall 
have  a  public  Festival,  or  only  private  ones  ? 

Theroigne,  as  we  saw,  spoke ;  and  Collot  took  up  the  tale. 
Has  not  Bouill<Ts  final  display  of  himself,  in  that  final  Night 
of  Spurs,  stamped  your  so-called  'Revolt  of  Nanci'  into  a 
*  Massacre  of  Nanci,1  for  all  Patriot  judgments  ?  Hateful  is 

1  Dumont,  c.  19,  21. 


253  PARLIAMENT   FIRST       [BK.  v.  CH.  X. 

that  massacre ;  hateful  the  Lafayette-Feuillant  *  public  thanks ' 
given  for  it !  For  indeed,  Jacobin  Patriotism  and  dispersed 
Feuillantism  are  now  at  death-grips ;  and  do  fight  with  all 
weapons,  even  with  scenic  shows.  The  walls  of  Paris,  accord- 
ingly, are  covered  with  Placard  and  Counter-Placard,  on  the 
subject  of  Forty  Swiss  blockheads.  Journal  responds  to 
Journal ;  Player  Collot  to  Poetaster  Roucher ;  Joseph  Chenier 
the  Jacobin,  squire  of  Theroigne,  to  his  Brother  Andr^  the 
Feuillant ;  Mayor  Petion  to  Dupont  de  Nemours :  and  for 
the  space  of  two  months,  there  is  nowhere  peace  for  the 
thought  of  man, — till  this  thing  be  settled. 

Gloria  m  excelsis!  The  Forty  Swiss  are  at  last  got 
*  amnestied.'  Rejoice,  ye  Forty ;  doff  your  greasy  wool  Bonnets, 
which  shall  become  Caps  of  Liberty.  The  Brest  Daughter 
Society  welcomes  you  from  on  board,  with  kisses  on  each 
cheek  :  your  iron  Handcuffs  are  disputed  as  Relics  of  Saints ; 
the  Brest  Society  indeed  can  have  one  portion,  which  it  will 
beat  into  Pikes,  a  sort  of  Sacred  Pikes  ;  but  the  other  portion 
must  belong  to  Paris,  and  be  suspended  from  the  dome  there, 
along  with  the  Flags  of  the  Three  Free  Peoples  !  Such  a 
goose  is  man ;  and  cackles  over  plush-velvet  Grand  Monarques 
and  woollen  Galley-slaves ;  over  everything  and  over  nothing, 
— and  will  cackle  with  his  whole  soul,  merely  if  others  cackle  ! 

On  the  ninth  morning  of  April,  these  Forty  Swiss  block- 
heads arrive.  From  Versailles ;  with  vivats  heaven-high ; 
with  the  affluence  of  men  and  women.  To  the  Townhall  we 
conduct  them ;  nay  to  the  Legislative  itself,  though  not 
without  difficulty.  They  are  harangued,  bedinnered,  begifted, 
— the  very  Court,  not  for  conscience-sake,  contributing  some- 
thing ;  and  their  Public  Festival  shall  be  next  Sunday.  Next 
Sunday  accordingly  it  is.1  They  are  mounted  into  a  *  trium- 
phal Car  resembling  a  ship ' ;  are  carted  over  Paris,  with  the 
clang  of  cymbals  and  drums,  all  mortals  assisting  applausive ; 
carted  to  the  Champ-de-Mars  and  Fatherland's  Altar;  and 

1  Newspapers  of  February,  March,  April  1792 ;  lambe  d' Andre  Chenier  ntf 
la  File  des  Suisses ;  etc.  etc.  (in  Hist.  Part.  xiii.  JUT.) 


AP.  9, 1792]     HEREDITARY   REPRESENTATIVE    253 

finally  carted,  for  Time  always  brings  deliverance, — into  invisi- 
bility for  evermore. 

Whereupon  dispersed  Feuillantism,  or  that  Party  which 
loves  Liberty  yet  not  more  than  Monarchy,  will  likewise  have 
its  Festival :  Festival  of  Simoneau,  unfortunate  Mayor  of 
Etampes,  who  died  for  the  Law ;  most  surely  for  the  Law, 
though  Jacobinism  disputes;  being  trampled  down  with  his 
Red  Flag  in  the  riot  about  grains.  At  which  Festival  the 
Public  again  assists,  wnapplausive  :  not  we. 

On  the  whole,  Festivals  are  not  wanting ;  beautiful  rainbow- 
spray  when  all  is  now  rushing  treble-quick  towards  its  Niagara 
Fall.  National  Repasts  there  are ;  countenanced  by  Mayor 
Petion ;  Saint- Antoine,  and  the  Strong  Ones  of  the  Halles 
defiling  through  Jacobin  Club,  *  their  felicity/  according  to 
Santerre,  *  not  perfect  otherwise ' ;  singing  many-voiced  their 
fa-iraj  dancing  their  ronde  patriotique.  Among  whom  one  is 
glad  to  discern  Saint-Huruge,  expressly  'in  white  hat,1  the 
Saint-Christopher  of  the  Carmagnole.  Nay  a  certain  Tambour, 
or  National  Drummer,  having  just  been  presented  with  a  little 
daughter,  determines  to  have  the  new  Frenchwoman  christened, 
on  Fatherland's  Altar,  then  and  there.  Repast  once  over,  he 
accordingly  has  her  christened ;  Fauchet  the  Te-Deum  Bishop 
acting  in  chief,  Thuriot  and  honourable  persons  standing 
gossips  :  by  the  name,  Pe'tion-National-Pique !  *  Does  this 
remarkable  Citizeness,  now  past  the  meridian  of  life,  still  walk 
the  Earth  ?  Or  did  she  die  perhaps  of  teething  ?  Universal 
History  is  not  indifferent. 


CHAPTER   XI 

THE   HEREDITARY   REPRESENTATIVE 

AND  yet  it  is  not  by  carmagnole-dances,  and  singing  of 
that  the  work  can  be  done.     Duke  Brunswick  is  not 
dancing  carmagnoles,  but  has  his  drill-sergeants  busy. 

1  Patriote-Fraryais  (Brissot's  Newspaper),  in  Hist.  Part,  xiii.  451. 


254  PARLIAMENT    FIRST      [BK.  v.  CH.  XL 

On  the  Frontiers,  our  Armies,  be  it  treason  or  not,  behave 
in  the  worst  way.  Troops  badly  commanded,  shall  we  say  ? 
Or  troops  intrinsically  bad?  Unappointed,  undisciplined, 
mutinous  ;  that,  in  a  thirty-years  peace,  have  never  seen  fire  ? 
In  any  case,  Lafayette's  and  Rochambeau's  little  clutch,  which 
they  made  at  Austrian  Flanders,  has  prospered  as  badly  as 
clutch  need  do :  soldiers  starting  at  their  own  shadow ; 
suddenly  shrieking,  *  On  nous  trahit,"1  and  flying  off  in  wild 
panic,  at  or  before  the  first  shot ; — managing  only  to  hang 
some  two  or  three  prisoners  they  had  picked  up,  and  massacre 
their  own  Commander,  poor  Theobald  Dillon,  driven  into  a 
granary  by  them  in  the  Town  of  Lille. 

And  poor  Gouvion :  he  who  sat  shiftless  in  that  Insurrection 
of  Women !  Gouvion  quitted  the  Legislative  Hall  and 
Parliamentary  duties,  in  disgust  and  despair,  when  those 
Galley-slaves  of  Chateau- Vieux  were  admitted  there.  He  said, 
'  Between  the  Austrians  and  the  Jacobins  there  is  nothing  but 
a  soldier's  death  for  it ; ' l  and  so,  *  in  the  dark  stormy  night,' 
he  has  flung  himself  into  the  throat  of  the  Austrian  cannon, 
and  perished  in  the  skirmish  at  Maubeuge  on  the  ninth  of 
June.  Whom  Legislative  Patriotism  shall  mourn,  with  black 
mort-cloths  and  melody  in  the  CIiamp-de-Mars :  many  a 
Patriot  shiftier,  truer  none.  Lafayette  himself  is  looking 
altogether  dubious ;  in  place  of  beating  the  Austrians,  is 
about  writing  to  denounce  the  Jacobins.  Rochambeau,  all 
disconsolate,  quits  the  service :  there  remains  only  Luckner, 
the  babbling  old  Prussian  Grenadier. 

Without  Armies,  without  Generals  !  And  the  Cimmerian 
Night  has  gathered  itself ;  Brunswick  preparing  his  proclama- 
tion ;  just  about  to  march  !  Let  a  Patriot  Ministry  and 
Legislative  say,  what  in  these  circumstances  it  will  do? 
Suppress  internal  enemies,  for  one  thing,  answers  the  Patriot 
Legislative ;  and  proposes,  on  the  24th  of  May,  its  Decree  for 
the  Banishment  of  Priests.  Collect  also  some  nucleus  of  deter- 
mined internal  friends,  adds  War-Minister  Servan;  and  proposes, 
1  Toulongeon,  ii.  149, 


JUNE  io,  1792]  HEREDITARY  REPRESENTATIVE  255 

on  the  7th  of  June,  his  Camp  of  Twenty-thousand.  Twenty- 
thousand  National  Volunteers  ;  Five  out  of  each  Canton,  picked 
Patriots,  for  Roland  has  charge  of  the  Interior :  they  shall 
assemble  here  in  Paris  ;  and  be  for  a  defence,  cunningly  devised, 
against  foreign  Austrians  and  domestic  Austrian  Committee 
alike.  So  much  can  a  Patriot  Ministry  and  Legislative  do. 

Reasonable  and  cunningly  devised  as  such  Camp  may,  to 
Servan  and  Patriotism,  appear,  it  appears  not  so  to  Feuil- 
lantism  ;  to  that  Feuillant- Aristocrat  Staff  of  the  Paris  Guard  ; 
a  Staff,  one  would  say  again,  which  will  need  to  be  dissolved. 
These  men  see,  in  this  proposed  Camp  of  Servants,  an  offence ; 
and  even,  as  they  pretend  to  say,  an  insult.  Petitions  there 
come,  in  consequence,  from  blue  Feuillants  in  epaulettes ;  ill 
received.  Nay,  in  the  end,  there  comes  one  Petition,  called 
'  of  the  Eight-thousand  National  Guards ' :  so  many  names  are 
on  it,  including  women  and  children.  Which  famed  Petition 
of  the  Eight-thousand  is  indeed  received  :  and  the  Petitioners, 
all  under  arms,  are  admitted  to  the  honours  of  the  sitting, — if 
honours  or  even  if  sitting  there  be;  for  the  instant  their 
bayonets  appear  at  the  one  door,  the  Assembly  'adjourns,' 
and  begins  to  flow  out  at  the  other.1 

Also,  in  these  same  days,  it  is  lamentable  to  see  how  National 
Guards,  escorting  Flte-Dieu  or  Corpus-Christi  ceremonial,  do 
collar  and  smite  down  any  Patriot  that  does  not  uncover  as 
the  Hostie  passes.  They  clap  their  bayonets  to  the  breast  of 
Cattle-butcher  Legendre,  a  known  Patriot  ever  since  the 
Bastille  days ;  and  threaten  to  butcher  him ;  though  he  sat 
quite  respectfully,  he  says,  in  his  Gig,  at  a  distance  of  fifty 
paces,  waiting  till  the  thing  were  by.  Nay  orthodox  females 
were  shrieking  to  have  down  the  Lanterne  on  him.* 

To  such  height  has  Feuillantism  gone  in  this  Corps.  For 
indeed,  are  not  their  Officers  creatures  of  the  chief  Feuillant, 
Lafayette  ?  The  Court  too  has,  very  naturally,  been  tamper- 
ing with  them  ;  caressing  them,  ever  since  that  dissolution  of 

1  Moniteur,  Stance  do  lojuin  1792. 

•  Dibat*  dts  Jacobins  (in  Hist.  Parl  riy.  429). 


256  PARLIAMENT   FIRST      [BK.  v.  CH.  XL 

the  so-called  Constitutional  Guard.  Some  Battalions  are 
altogether  *  petris,  kneaded  full '  of  Feuillantism,  mere  Aristo- 
crats at  bottom :  for  instance,  the  Battalion  of  the  Filles- 
Samt-Thomas,  made  up  of  your  Bankers,  Stockbrokers,  and 
other  Full-purses  of  the  Rue  Vivienne.  Our  worthy  old  Friend 
Weber,  Queen's  Foster-brother  Weber,  carries  a  musket  in 
that  Battalion, — one  may  judge  with  what  degree  of  Patriotic 
intention. 

Heedless  of  all  which,  or  rather  heedful  of  all  which,  the 
Legislative,  backed  by  Patriot  France  and  the  feeling  of 
Necessity,  decrees  this  Camp  of  Twenty-thousand.  Decisive 
though  conditional  Banishment  of  malign  Priests  it  has  already 
decreed. 

It  will  now  be  seen,  therefore,  Whether  the  Hereditary 
Representative  is  for  us  or  against  us  ?  Whether  or  not,  to 
all  our  other  woes,  this  intolerablest  one  is  to  be  added ; 
which  renders  us  not  a  menaced  Nation  in  extreme  jeopardy 
and  need,  but  a  paralytic  Solecism  of  a  Nation ;  sitting 
wrapped  as  in  dead  cerements,  of  a  Constitutional- Vesture 
that  were  no  other  than  a  winding-sheet ;  our  right  hand 
glued  to  our  left :  to  wait  there,  writhing  and  wriggling, 
unable  to  stir  from  the  spot,  till  in  Prussian  rope  we  mount 
to  the  gallows  ?  Let  the  Hereditary  Representative  consider 
it  well :  The  Decree  of  Priests  ?  The  Camp  of  Twenty- 
thousand? — By  Heaven,  he  answers,  Veto!  Veto! — Strict 
Roland  hands-in  his  Letter  to  the  King\  or  rather  it  was 
Madame's  Letter,  who  wrote  it  all  at  a  sitting ;  one  of  the 
plainest-spoken  Letters  ever  handed-in  to  any  King.  This 
plain-spoken  Letter  King  Louis  has  the  benefit  of  reading 
overnight.  He  reads,  inwardly  digests ;  and  next  morning, 
the  whole  Patriot  Ministry  finds  itself  turned  out.  It  is  the 
13th  of  June  1792.1 

Dumouriez  the  many-counselled,  he,  with  one  Duranthon 
called  Minister  of  Justice,  does  indeed  linger  for  a  day  or  two  ; 
in  rather  suspicious  circumstances ;  speaks  with  the  Queen, 
1  Madame  Roland,  ii.  115. 


JUNE  1792]     THE    BLACK    BREECHES         257 

almost  weeps  with  her :  but  in  the  end,  he  too  sets  off  for  the 
Army ;  leaving  what  Un-Patriot  or  Semi-Patriot  Ministry  and 
Ministries  can  now  accept  the  helm,  to  accept  it.  Name  them 
not ;  new  quick-changing  Phantasms,  which  shift  like  magic- 
lantern  figures  ;  more  spectral  than  ever  ! 

Unhappy  Queen,  unhappy  Louis  !  The  two  Vetoa  were  so 
natural :  are  not  the  Priests  martyrs ;  also  friends  ?  This 
Camp  of  Twenty -thousand,  could  it  be  other  than  of 
stormfulest  Sansculottes  ?  Natural ;  and  yet,  to  France,  un- 
endurable. Priests  that  cooperate  with  Coblentz  must  go 
elsewhither  with  their  martyrdom :  stormful  Sansculottes, 
these  and  no  other  kind  of  creatures  will  drive  back  the 
Austrians.  If  thou  prefer  the  Austrians,  then,  for  the  love 
of  Heaven,  go  join  them.  If  not,  join  frankly  with  what  will 
oppose  them  to  the  death.  Middle  course  is  none. 

Or,  alas,  what  extreme  course  was  there  left  now  for  a  man 
like  Louis  ?  Underhand  Royalists,  Ex-Minister  Bertrand- 
Moleville,  Ex-Constituent  Malouet,  and  all  manner  of  un- 
helpful individuals,  advise  and  advise.  With  face  of  hope 
turned  now  on  the  Legislative  Assembly,  and  now  on  Austria 
and  Coblentz,  and  round  generally  on  the  Chapter  of  Chances, 
an  ancient  Kingship  is  reeling  and  spinning,  one  knows  not 
whitherward,  on  the  flood  of  things. 


CHAPTER   XII 
PROCESSION   OF  THE   BLACK   BREECHES 

Bur  is  there  a  thinking  man  hi  France  who,  in  these 
circumstances,  can  persuade  himself  that  the  Constitution  will 
march?  Brunswick  is  stirring;  he,  in  few  days  now,  will 
march.  Shall  France  sit  still,  wrapped  in  dead  cerements 
and  grave-clothes,  its  right  hand  glued  to  its  left,  till  the 
Brunswick  Saint-Bartholomew  arrive ;  till  France  be  as  Poland, 
and  its  Rights  of  Man  become  a  Prussian  Gibbet  ? 

VOL.  n.  m 


258  PARLIAMENT    FIRST     [BK.  v.  CH.  xn. 

Verily  it  is  a  moment  frightful  for  all  men.  National 
Death ;  or  else  some  preternatural  convulsive  outburst  of 
National  Life  ; — that  same  daemonic  outburst !  Patriots 
whose  audacity  has  limits  had,  in  truth,  better  retire  like 
Barnave ;  court  private  felicity  at  Grenoble.  Patriots  whose 
audacity  has  no  limits  must  sink  down  into  the  obscure ;  and, 
daring  and  defying  all  things,  seek  salvation  in  stratagem,  in 
Plot  of  Insurrection.  Roland  and  young  Barbaroux  have 
spread  out  the  Map  of  France  before  them,  Barbaroux  says 
*with  tears':  they  consider  what  Rivers,  what  Mountain-ranges 
are  in  it :  they  will  retire  behind  this  Loire-stream,  defend 
these  Auvergne  stone-labyrinths;  save  some  little  sacred  Terri- 
tory of  the  Free ;  die  at  least  in  their  last  ditch.  Lafayette 
indites  his  emphatic  Letter  to  the  Legislative  against  Jacobin- 
ism ;*  which  emphatic  Letter  will  not  heal  the  unhealable. 

Forward,  ye  Patriots  whose  audacity  has  no  limits ;  it  is 
you  now  that  must  either  do  or  die  !  The  Sections  of  Paris 
sit  in  deep  counsel ;  send  out  Deputation  after  Deputation  to 
the  Salle  de  Manege,  to  petition  and  denounce.  Great  is 
their  ire  against  tyrannous  Veto,  Austrian  Committee,  and  the 
combined  Cimmerian  Kings.  What  boots  it  ?  Legislative 
listens  to  the  '  tocsin  in  our  hearts ' ;  grants  us  honours  of  the 
sitting,  sees  us  defile  with  jingle  and  fanfaronade ;  but  the 
Camp  of  Twenty-thousand,  the  Priest-Decree,  be-vetoed  by 
Majesty,  are  become  impossible  for  Legislative.  Fiery  Isnard 
says,  *  We  will  have  Equality,  should  we  descend  for  it  to  the 
tomb.'  Vergniaud  utters,  hypothetically,  his  stern  Ezekiel- 
visions  of  the  fate  of  Anti-national  Kings.  But  the  question 
is :  Will  hypothetic  prophecies,  will  jingle  and  fanfaronade 
demolish  the  Veto  ;  or  will  the  Veto,  secure  in  its  Tuileries 
Chateau,  remain  undemolishable  by  these  ?  Barbaroux,  dash- 
ing away  his  tears,  writes  to  the  Marseilles  Municipality,  that 
they  must  send  him  '  Six  hundred  men  who  know  how  to  die, 
qui  savent  mourirS*  No  wet-eyed  message  this,  but  a  fire- 
eyed  one  ; — which  will  be  obeyed  ! 

1  Afoniteur,  Stance  du  18  Juin  1792.  *  Barbaroux,  p.  40. 


JUNE  20,  1792]    THE    BLACK    BREECHES    259 

Meanwhile  the  Twentieth  of  June  is  nigh,  anniversary  of 
that  world-famous  Oath  of  the  Tennis-Court :  on  which  day, 
it  is  said,  certain  citizens  have  in  view  to  plant  a  Mai  or  Tree 
of  Liberty  in  the  Tuileries  Terrace  of  the  Feuillants  ;  perhaps 
also  to  petition  the  Legislative  and  Hereditary  Representative 
about  these  Vetos ; — with  such  demonstration,  jingle  and 
evolution,  as  may  seem  profitable  and  practicable.  Sections 
have  gone  singly,  and  jingled  and  evolved  :  but  if  they  all 
went,  or  great  part  of  them,  and  there,  planting  their  Mai  in 
these  alarming  circumstances,  sounded  the  tocsin  in  their 
hearts  ? 

Among  King's  Friends  there  can  be  but  one  opinion  as  to 
such  a  step  :  among  Nation's  Friends  there  may  be  two.  On 
the  one  hand,  might  it  not  by  possibility  scare  away  these 
unblessed  Vetos  ?  Private  Patriots  and  even  Legislative 
Deputies  may  have  each  his  own  opinion,  or  own  no-opinion : 
but  the  hardest  task  falls  evidently  on  Mayor  Petion  and  the 
Municipals,  at  once  Patriots  and  Guardians  of  the  public 
Tranquillity.  Hushing  the  matter  down  with  the  one  hand ; 
tickling  it  up  with  the  other  !  Mayor  Petion  and  Muni- 
cipality may  lean  this  way ;  Department-Directory  with 
Procureur-Syndic  Ro2derer,  having  a  Feuillant  tendency,  may 
lean  that.  On  the  whole,  each  man  must  act  according  to 
his  one  opinion  or  to  his  two  opinions,  and  all  manner  of 
influences,  official  representations  cross  one  another  in  the 
foolishest  way.  Perhaps  after  all,  the  Project,  desirable  and 
yet  not  desirable,  will  dissipate  itself,  being  run  athwart  by  so 
many  complexities  ;  and  come  to  nothing  ? 

Not  so ;  on  the  Twentieth  morning  of  June,  a  large  Tree 
of  Liberty,  Lombardy  Poplar  by  kind,  lies  visibly  tied  on  its 
car,  in  the  Suburb  Saint-Antoine.  Suburb  Saint-Marceau 
too,  in  the  uttermost  Southeast,  and  all  that  remote  Oriental 
region,  Pikemen  and  Pikewomen,  National  Guards,  and  the 
unarmed  curious  are  gathering, — with  the  peaceablest  inten- 
tions in  the  world.  A  tricolor  Municipal  arrives ;  speaks. 
Tush,  it  is  all  peaceable,  we  tell  thee,  in  the  way  of  Law : 


260  PARLIAMENT    FIRST     |BK.  V.  CH.  XII, 

are  not  Petitions  allowable,  and  the  Patriotism  of  Mais? 
The  tricolor  Municipal  returns  without  effect :  your  Sanscu- 
lottic  rills  continue  flowing,  combining  into  brooks :  towards 
noontide,  led  by  tall  Santerre  in  blue  uniform,  by  tall  Saint- 
Huruge  in  white  hat,  it  moves  westward,  a  respectable  river, 
or  complication  of  still-swelling  rivers. 

What  Processions  have  we  not  seen :  Corpus-Christi  and 
Legendre  waiting  in  his  Gig ;  Bones  of  Voltaire  with  bullock 
chariots,  and  goadsmen  in  Roman  Costume;  Feasts  of  Chateau- 
Vieux  and  Simoneau ;  Gouvion  Funerals,  Rousseau  Sham 
funeral,  and  the  Baptism  of  Petion-National-Pike !  Never- 
theless this  Procession  has  a  character  of  its  own.  Tricolor 
ribands  streaming  aloft  from  Pike-heads ;  ironshod  batons ; 
and  emblems  not  a  few ;  among  which  see  specially  these  two, 
of  the  tragic  and  the  untragic  sort :  a  Bull's  Heart  transfixed 
with  iron,  bearing  this  epigraph,  *  Cceur  ([Aristocrats,  Aristo- 
crat's heart ' ;  and,  more  striking  still,  properly  the  standard 
of  the  host,  a  pair  of  old  Black  Breeches  (silk,  they  say), 
extended  on  cross-staff,  high  overhead,  with  these  memorable 
words :  *  Tremblez,  tyrans ;  voild  Us  Sansculottes,  Tremble, 
tyrants ;  here  are  the  Sans-indispensables ! '  Also,  the 
Procession  trails  two  cannons. 

Scarfed  tricolor  Municipals  do  now  again  meet  it,  in  the 
Quai  Saint-Bernard,  and  plead  earnestly,  having  called  halt. 
Peaceable,  ye  virtuous  tricolor  Municipals,  peaceable  are  we  as 
the  sucking  dove.  Behold  our  Tennis-Court  Mai.  Petition  is 
legal ;  and  as  for  arms,  did  not  an  august  Legislative  receive 
the  so-called  Eight-thousand  in  arms,  Feuillants  though  they 
were  ?  Our  Pikes,  are  they  not  of  National  iron  ?  Law  is 
our  father  and  mother,  whom  we  will  not  dishonour;  but 
Patriotism  is  our  own  soul.  Peaceable,  ye  virtuous  Muni- 
cipals ; — and  on  the  whole,  limited  as  to  time !  Stop  we 
cannot;  march  ye  with  us. — The  Black  Breeches  agitate 
themselves,  impatient ;  the  cannon- wheels  grumble  :  the  many- 
footed  Host  tramps  on. 

How  it  reached  the  Salle  de  Manege,  like  an  ever- waxing 


JUNE  20,  1792]    THE    BLACK    BREECHES    261 

river ;  got  admittance  after  debate ;  read  its  Address ;  and 
defiled,  dancing  and  fo-fra-ing,  led  by  tall  sonorous  Santerre 
and  tall  sonorous  Saint-Huruge :  how  it  flowed,  not  now  a 
waxing  river  but  a  shut  Caspian  lake,  round  all  Precincts  of 
the  Tuileries ;  the  front  Patriot  squeezed  by  the  rearward 
against  barred  iron  Grates,  like  to  have  the  life  squeezed  out 
of  him,  and  looking  too  into  the  dread  throat  of  cannon,  for 
National  Battalions  stand  ranked  within  :  how  tricolor  Muni- 
cipals ran  assiduous,  and  Royalists  with  Tickets  of  Entry ; 
and  both  Majesties  sat  in  the  interior  surrounded  by  men  in 
black  :  all  this  the  human  mind  shall  fancy  for  itself,  or  read 
in  old  Newspapers,  and  Syndic  Rcederer's  Chronicle  of  Fifty 
Days.1 

Our  Mai  is  planted;  if  not  in  the  Feuillants  Terrace, 
whither  is  no  ingate,  then  in  the  Garden  of  the  Capuchins,  as 
near  as  we  could  get.  National  Assembly  has  adjourned  till 
the  Evening  Session :  perhaps  this  shut  lake,  finding  no 
ingate,  will  retire  to  its  sources  again ;  and  disappear  in 
peace  ?  Alas,  not  yet :  rearward  still  presses  on ;  rearward 
knows  little  what  pressure  is  in  the  front.  One  would  wish, 
at  all  events,  were  it  possible,  to  have  a  word  with  his  Majesty 
first! 

The  shadows  fall  longer,  eastward ;  it  is  four  o'clock  :  will 
his  Majesty  not  come  out  ?  Hardly  he  !  In  that  case,  Com- 
mandant Santerre,  Cattle-butcher  Legendre,  Patriot  Huguenin 
with  the  tocsin  in  his  heart ;  they,  and  others  of  authority, 
will  enter  in.  Petition  and  request  to  wearied  uncertain 
National  Guard ;  louder  and  louder  petition ;  backed  by  the 
rattle  of  our  two  cannons !  The  reluctant  Grate  opens : 
endless  Sansculottic  multitudes  flood  the  stairs ;  knock  at  the 
wooden  guardian  of  your  privacy.  Knocks,  in  such  case,  grow 
strokes,  grow  smashings  :  the  wooden  guardian  flies  in  shivers. 
And  now  ensues  a  Scene  over  which  the  world  has  long 
wailed ;  and  not  unjustly ;  for  a  sorrier  spectacle,  of  Incon- 
gruity fronting  Incongruity,  and  as  it  were  recognising  them- 
1  Rcederer,  etc.  etc.  (in  Hist.  far/.  XT.  98-194). 


262  PARLIAMENT    FIRST     [BK.  v.  CH.  xn. 

selves  incongruous,  and  staring  stupidly  in  each  other's  face,. 
the  world  seldom  saw. 

King  Louis,  his  door  being  beaten  on,  opens  it;  stands 
with  free  bosom ;  asking,  *  What  do  you  want  ? '  The 
•  Sansculottic  flood  recoils  awestruck;  returns  however,  the 
rear  pressing  on  the  front,  with  cries  of  *  Veto !  Patriot 
-  Ministers  !  Remove  Veto  ! ' — which  things,  Louis  valiantly 
answers,  this  is  not  the  time  to  do,  nor  this  the  way  to  ask 
him  to  do.  Honour  what  virtue  is  in  a  man.  Louis  does 
not  want  courage ;  he  has  even  the  higher  kind  called  moral- 
courage  ;  though  only  the  passive-half  of  that.  His  few 
National  Grenadiers  shuffle  back  with  him,  into  the  embrasure 
of  a  window  :  there  he  stands,  with  unimpeachable  passivity, 
amid  the  shouldering  and  the  braying ;  a  spectacle  to  men. 
They  hand  him  a  red  Cap  of  Liberty ;  he  sets  it  quietly  on 
his  head,  forgets  it  there.  He  complains  of  thirst;  half- 
drunk  Rascality  offers  him  a  bottle,  he  drinks  of  it.  *  Sire, 
do  not  fear,'  says  one  of  his  Grenadiers.  '  Fear  ? '  answers 
Louis  :  *  feel  then,'  putting  the  man's  hand  on  his  heart.  So 
stands  Majesty  in  Red  woollen  Cap ;  black  Sansculottism 
weltering  round  him,  far  and  wide,  aimless,  with  inarticulate 
dissonance,  with  cries  of  *  Veto  !  Patriot  Ministers ' ! 

For  the  space  of  three  hours  or  more !  The  National 
Assembly  is  adjourned ;  tricolor  Municipals  avail  almost 
nothing  :  Mayor  Petion  tarries  absent ;  Authority  is  none. 
The  Queen  with  her  Children  and  Sister  Elizabeth,  in  tears 
and  terror  not  for  themselves  only,  are  sitting  behind  barri- 
caded tables  and  Grenadiers,  in  an  inner  room.  The  Men  in 
black  have  all  wisely  disappeared.  Blind  lake  of  Sansculot- 
tism welters  stagnant  through  the  King's  Chateau,  for  the 
space  of  three  hours. 

Nevertheless  all  things  do  end.  Vergniaud  arrives  with 
Legislative  Deputation,  the  Evening  Session  having  now 
opened.  Mayor  Petion  has  arrived ;  is  haranguing,  *  lifted 
on  the  shoulders  of  two  Grenadiers.'  In  this  uneasy  attitude 
and  in  others,  at  various  places  without  and  within,  Mayor 


JUNE  20,  1792]    THE    BLACK    BREECHES     263 

Petion  harangues ;  many  men  harangue ;  finally  Commandant 
Santerre  defiles;  passes  out,  with  his  Sansculottism,  by  the 
opposite  side  of  the  Chateau.  Passing  through  the  room 
where  the  Queen,  with  an  air  of  dignity  and  sorrowful  resigna- 
tion, sat  among  the  tables  and  Grenadiers,  a  woman  offers 
her  too  a  Red  Cap ;  she  holds  it  in  her  hand,  even  puts  it  on 
the  little  Prince  Royal.  *  Madame,'  said  Santerre,  *  this 
People  loves  you  more  than  you  think/1 — About  eight 
o'clock  the  Royal  Family  fall  into  each  other's  arms  amid 
'  torrents  of  tears/  Unhappy  Family !  Who  would  not 
weep  for  it,  were  there  not  a  whole  world  to  be  wept  for  ? 

Thus  has  the  Age  of  Chivalry  gone,  and  that  of  Hunger 
come.  Thus  does  all-needing  Sansculottism  look  in  the  face  of 
its  7?oi,  Regulator,  King  or  Able-man ;  and  find  that  he  has 
nothing  to  give  it.  Thus  do  the  two  Parties,  brought  face  to 
face  after  long  centuries,  stare  stupidly  at  one  another,  This, 
verily,  am  I ;  but,  good  Heaven,  is  that  Thou  ? — and  depart, 
not  knowing  what  to  make  of  it.  And  yet,  Incongruities 
having  recognised  themselves  to  be  incongruous,  something 
must  be  made  of  it.  The  Fates  know  what. 

This  is  the  world-famous  Twentieth  of  June,  more  worthy 
to  be  called  the  Procession  of  the  Black  Breeches.  With  which, 
what  we  had  to  say  of  this  First  French  biennial  Parliament, 
and  its  products  and  activities,  may  perhaps  fitly  enough 
terminate. 

1  Tiulongeon,  ii.  173  ;  Cam;  an,  ii.  c.  20. 


BOOK    SIXTH 
THE    MARSEILLESE 


CHAPTER    I 

EXECUTIVE  THAT  DOES  NOT  ACT 

How  could  your  paralytic  National  Executive  be  put  'in 
action,'  in  any  measure,  by  such  a  Twentieth  of  June  as  this  ? 
Quite  contrariwise :  a  large  sympathy  for  Majesty  so  insulted 
arises  everywhere ;  expresses  itself  in  Addresses,  Petitions, 
*  Petition  of  the  Twenty-thousand  inhabitants  of  Paris,'  and 
suchlike,  among  all  Constitutional  persons ;  a  decided  rallying 
round  the  throne. 

Of  which  rallying  it  was  thought  King  Louis  might  have 
made  something.  However,  he  does  make  nothing  of  it,  or 
attempt  to  make;  for  indeed  his  views  are  lifted  beyond 
domestic  sympathy  and  rallying,  over  to  Coblentz  mainly. 
Neither  in  itself  is  this  same  sympathy  worth  much.  It  is 
sympathy  of  men  who  believe  still  that  the  Constitution  can 
march.  Wherefore  the  old  discord  and  ferment,  of  Feuillant 
sympathy  for  Royalty,  and  Jacobin  sympathy  for  Fatherland, 
acting  against  each  other  from  within ;  with  terror  of  Coblentz 
and  Brunswick  acting  from  without : — this  discord  and  fer- 
ment must  hold  on  its  course,  till  a  catastrophe  do  ripen  and 
come.  One  would  think,  especially  as  Brunswick  is  near 
marching,  such  catastrophe  cannot  now  be  distant.  Busy,  ye 
Twenty-five  French  Millions  :  ye  foreign  Potentates,  minatory 
Emigrants,  German  drill-sergeants ;  each  do  what  his  hand 

264 


JUN.  20, 1792]  EXECUTIVE  THAT  DOES  NOT  ACT  265 

fimleth  !    Thou,  O  Reader,  at  such  safe  distance,  wilt  see  what 
they  make  of  it  among  them. 

Consider,  therefore,  this  pitiable  Twentieth  of  June  as  a 
futility ;  no  catastrophe,  rather  a  catastasls,  or  heightening. 
Do  not  its  Black  Breeches  wave  there,  in  the  Historical 
Imagination,  like  a  melancholy  flag  of  distress ;  soliciting 
help,  which  no  mortal  can  give  ?  Soliciting  pity,  which  them 
wert  hardhearted  not  to  give  freely,  to  one  and  all !  Other 
such  flags,  or  what  are  called  Occurrences,  and  black  or 
bright  symbolic  Phenomena  will  flit  through  the  Historical 
Imagination ;  these,  one  after  one,  let  us  note,  with  extreme 
brevity. 

The  first  phenomenon  is  that  of  Lafayette  at  the  Bar  of  the 
Assembly ;  after  a  week  and  day.  Promptly,  on  hearing  of 
this  scandalous  Twentieth  of  June,  Lafayette  has  quitted  his 
Command  on  the  North  Frontier,  in  better  or  worse  order ; 
and  got  hither,  on  the  28th,  to  repress  the  Jacobins :  not  by 
letter  now ;  but  by  oral  Petition,  and  weight  of  character, 
face  to  face.  The  august  Assembly  finds  the  step  question- 
able ;  invites  him  meanwhile  to  the  honours  of  the  sitting.1 
Other  honour,  or  advantage,  there  unhappily  came  almost 
none ;  the  Galleries  all  growling ;  fiery  Isnard  glooming ; 
sharp  Guadet  not  wanting  in  sarcasms. 

And  out  of  doors,  when  the  sitting  is  over,  Sieur  Resson, 
keeper  of  the  Patriot  Ca/6  in  these  regions,  hears  in  the  street 
a  hurlyburly;  steps  forth  to  look,  he  and  his  Patriot  cus- 
tomers :  it  is  Lafayette's  carriage,  with  a  tumultuous  escort  of 
blue  Grenadiers,  Cannoneers,  even  Officers  of  the  Line,  hurrah- 
ing and  capering  round  it.  They  make  a  pause  opposite 
Sieur  Reason's  door ;  wag  their  plumes  at  him ;  nay  shake 
their  fists,  bellowing  Jf  bos  let  Jacobins !  but  happily  pass  on 
without  onslaught.  They  pass  on,  to  plant  a  Mai  before  the 
General's  door,  and  bully  considerably.  All  which  the  Sieur 
Resson  cannot  but  report  with  sorrow,  that  night,  in  the 

1  Monitcur,  Seance  da  28  Jain  1792. 


266  THE    MARSEILLESE        [BK.  vi.  CH.  I, 

Mother  Society.1  But  what  no  Sieur  Resson  nor  Mother 
Society  can  do  more  than  guess  is  this,  That  a  council  of  rank 
Feuillants,  your  unabolished  Staff  of  the  Guard  and  who  else 
has  status  and  weight,  is  in  these  very  moments  privily 
deliberating  at  the  General's :  Can  we  not  put  down  the 
Jacobins  by  force  ?  Next  day,  a  Review  shall  be  held,  in  the 
Tuileries  Gardens,  of  such  as  will  turn  out,  and  try.  Alas, 
says  Toulongeon,  hardly  a  hundred  turned  out.  Put  it  off  till 
tomorrow,  then,  to  give  better  warning.  On  the  morrow^ 
which  is  Saturday,  there  turn  out  '  some  thirty ' ;  and  depart 
shrugging  their  shoulders  !2  Lafayette  promptly  takes  carriage 
again ;  returns  musing  on  many  things. 

The  dust  of  Paris  is  hardly  off  his  wheels,  the  summer 
Sunday  is  still  young,  when  Cordeliers  in  deputation  pluck  up 
that  Mai  of  his :  before  sunset,  Patriots  have  burnt  him  in 
effigy.  Louder  doubt  and  louder  rises,  in  Section,  in  National 
Assembly,  as  to  the  legality  of  such  unbidden  Anti-jacobin 
visit  on  the  part  of  a  General :  doubt  swelling  and  spreading 
all  over  France,  for  six  weeks  or  so ;  with  endless  talk  about 
usurping  soldiers,  about  English  Monk,  nay  about  Cromwell : 
O  thou  poor  Grandison-Cromwell ! — What  boots  it  ?  King 
Louis  himself  looked  coldly  on  the  enterprise :  colossal  Hero 
of  two  Worlds,  having  weighed  himself  in  the  balance,  finds 
that  he  is  become  a  gossamer  Colossus,  only  some  thirty  turn- 
ing out. 

In  a  like  sense,  and  with  a  like  issue,  works  our  Depart- 
ment-Directory here  at  Paris ;  who,  on  the  6th  of  July,  take 
upon  them  to  suspend  Mayor  Petion  and  Procureur  Manuel 
from  all  civic  functions,  for  their  conduct,  replete,  as  is  alleged, 
with  omissions  and  commissions,  on  that  delicate  Twentieth 
of  June.  Virtuous  Petion  sees  himself  a  kind  of  martyr,  or 
pseudo-martyr,  threatened  with  several  things ;  drawls  out 
due  heroical  lamentation ;  to  which  Patriot  Paris  and  Patriot 

1  Dtbats  dcs  Jacobins  (Hist.  Par!.  XT.  235). 

9  Toulongeon,  ii.  1 80.     See  also  Damp  mar  tin,  ii.  161. 


JULY  6, '92]  EXECUTIVE  THAT  DOES  NOT  ACT  267 

Legislative  duly  respond.  King  Louis  and  Mayor  Pe'tion  have 
already  had  an  interview  on  that  business  of  the  Twentieth ; 
an  interview  and  dialogue,  distinguished  by  frankness  on  both 
sides ;  ending  on  King  Louis's  side  with  the  words  *  Taisez- 
vous,  Hold  your  peace/ 

For  the  rest,  this  of  suspending  our  Mayor  does  seem  a 
mistimed  measure.  By  ill  chance,  it  came  out  precisely  on 
the  day  of  that  famous  Baiser  de  lamourette^  or  miraculous 
reconciliatory  Delilah-Kiss,  which  we  spoke  of  long  ago 
Which  Delilah-Kiss  was  thereby  quite  hindered  of  effect.  Foi 
now  his  Majesty  has  to  write,  almost  that  same  night,  asking 
a  reconciled  Assembly  for  advice  !  The  reconciled  Assembly 
will  not  advise ;  will  not  interfere.  The  King  confirms  the 
suspension  ;  then  perhaps,  but  not  till  then,  will  the  Assembly 
interfere,  the  noise  of  Patriot  Paris  getting  loud.  Whereby 
your  Delilah-Kiss,  such  was  the  destiny  of  Parliament  First, 
becomes  a  Philistine  Battle  ! 

Nay  there  goes  a  word  that  as  many  as  Thirty  of  our  chief 
Patriot  Senators  are  to  be  clapped  in  prison,  by  mittimus  and 
indictment  of  Feuillant  Justices,  Juges  de  Paix ;  who  here  in 
Paris  were  well  capable  of  such  a  thing.  It  was  but  in  May 
last  that  Juge-de-Paix  Lariviere,  on  complaint  of  Bertrand- 
Moleville  touching  that  Austrian  Committee,  made  bold  to 
launch  his  mittimus  against  three  heads  of  the  Mountain, 
Deputies  Bazire,  Chabot,  Merlin,  the  Cordelier  Trio ;  sum- 
moning them  to  appear  before  Aim,  and  show  where  that 
Austrian  Committee  was,  or  else  suffer  the  consequences. 
Which  mittimus  the  Trio,  on  their  side,  made  bold  to  fling  in 
the  fire :  and  valiantly  pleaded  privilege  of  Parliament.  So 
that,  for  his  zeal  without  knowledge,  poor  Justice  Lariviere 
now  sits  in  the  prison  of  Orleans,  waiting  trial  from  the  Haute 
Cour  there.  Whose  example,  may  it  not  deter  other  rash 
Justices ;  and  so  this  word  of  the  Thirty  arrestments  continue 
a  word  merely  ? 

But  on  the  whole,  though  Lafayette  weighed  so  light,  and 
has  had  his  Mai  plucked  up,  Official  Feuillantism  falters  not 


268  THE    MARSEILLESE        [BK.  vi.  CH.  I. 

.a  whit ;  but  carries  its  head  high,  strong  in  the  letter  of  the 
Law.  Feuillants  all  of  these  men ;  a  Feuillant  Directory ; 
founding  on  high  character,  and  suchlike ;  with  Duke  de  la 
Rochefoucault  for  President, — a  thing  which  may  prove 
dangerous  for  him  !  Dim  now  is  the  once  bright  Anglo- 
mania of  these  admired  Noblemen.  Duke  de  Liancourt  offers, 
out  of  Normandy  where  he  is  Lord-Lieutenant,  not  only  to 
receive  his  Majesty,  thinking  of  flight  thither,  but  to  lend  him 
money  to  enormous  amounts.  Sire,  it  is  not  a  Revolt,  it  is  a 
Revolution ;  and  truly  no  rose-water  one  !  Worthier  Noble- 
men were  not  in  France  nor  in  Europe  than  those  two :  but 
the  Time  is  crooked,  quick-shifting,  perverse ;  what  straightest 
course  will  lead  to  any  goal,  in  it  ? 

Another  phasis  which  we  note,  in  these  early  July  days,  is 
that  of  certain  thin  streaks  of  Federate  National  Volunteers 
wending  from  various  points  towards  Paris,  to  hold  a  new 
Federation-Festival,  or  Feast  of  Pikes,  on  the  Fourteenth 
there.  So  has  the  National  Assembly  wished  it,  so  has  the 
Nation  willed  it.  In  this  way,  perhaps,  may  we  still  have 
our  Patriot  Camp  in  spite  of  Veto.  For  cannot  these  Federes, 
having  celebrated  their  Feast  of  Pikes,  march  on  to  Soissons  ; 
and,  there  being  drilled  and  regimented,  rush  to  the  Frontiers, 
or  whither  we  like  ?  Thus  were  the  one  Veto  cunningly 
eluded ! 

As  indeed  the  other  Veto,  about  Priests,  is  also  like  to  be 
eluded ;  and  without  much  cunning.  For  Provincial  Assem- 
blies, in  Calvados  as  one  instance,  are  proceeding,  on  their 
own  strength,  to  judge  and  banish  Antinational  Priests.  Or 
still  worse,  without  Provincial  Assembly,  a  desperate  People, 
as  at  Bordeaux,  can  '  hang  two  of  them  on  the  Lanterne,'  on 
the  way  towards  judgment.1  Pity  for  the  spoken  Veto,  when 
it  cannot  become  an  acted  one  ! 

It  is  true,  some  ghost  of  a  War-minister,  or  Home-minister, 
for  the  time  being,  ghost  whom  we  do  not  name,  does  write 
1  Hitt.  Par!,  xvi.  259. 


JULY  10, '92]  EXECUTIVE  THAT  DOES  NOT  ACT  269 

to  Municipalities  and  King's  Commanders,  that  they  shall,  by 
all  conceivable  methods,  obstruct  this  Federation,  and  even 
turn  back  the  Feder&  by  force  of  arms :  a  message  which 
scatters  mere  doubt,  paralysis  and  confusion ;  irritates  the 
poor  Legislature ;  reduces  the  Federes,  as  we  see,  to  thin 
streaks.  But  being  questioned,  this  ghost  and  the  other 
ghosts,  What  it  is  then  that  they  propose  to  do  for  saving 
the  country? — they  answer,  That  they  cannot  tell;  that 
indeed  they,  for  their  part,  have,  this  morning,  resigned  in  a 
body ;  and  do  now  merely  respectfully  take  leave  of  the  helm 
altogether.  With  which  words  they  rapidly  walk  out  of  the 
Hall,  sortent  brusquement  de  la  salle,  the  '  Galleries  cheering 
loudly,'  the  poor  Legislature  sitting  *  for  a  good  while  in 
silence  * ! 1  Thus  do  Cabinet-ministers  themselves,  in  extreme 
cases,  strike  work ;  one  of  the  strangest  omens.  Other 
complete  Cabinet-ministry  there  will  not  be ;  only  fragments, 
and  these  changeful,  which  never  get  completed ;  spectral 
Apparitions  that  cannot  so  much  as  appear !  King  Louis 
writes  that  he  now  views  this  Federation  Feast  with  approval ; 
and  will  himself  have  the  pleasure  to  take  part  in  the  same. 

And  so  these  thin  streaks  of  Fede'res  wend  Paris-ward 
through  a  paralytic  France.  Thin  grim  streaks ;  not  thick 
joyful  ranks,  as  of  old  to  the  first  Feast  of  Pikes !  No : 
these  poor  Federates  march  now  towards  Austria  and  Austrian 
Committee,  towards  jeopardy  and  forlorn  hope  ;  men  of  hard 
fortune  and  temper,  not  rich  in  the  world's  goods.  Munici- 
palities, paralysed  by  War-minister,  are  shy  of  affording  cash  ; 
it  may  be,  your  poor  Federates  cannot  arm  themselves,  cannot 
march,  till  the  Daughter  Society  of  the  place  open  her  pocket 
and  subscribe.  There  will  not  have  arrived,  at  the  set  day, 
Three-thousand  of  them  in  all.  And  yet,  thin  and  feeble  as 
these  streaks  of  Federates  seem,  they  are  the  only  thing  one 
discerns  moving  with  any  clearness  of  aim  in  this  strange  scene. 
Angry  buzz  and  simmer;  uneasy  tossing  and  moaning  of  a 
huge  France,  all  enchanted,  spellbound  by  unmarching  Consti- 

1  Moni.'eur,  Seance  du  Juillct  1702. 


270  THE    MARSEILLESE        [BK.  vi.  CH.  I. 

tution,  into  frightful  conscious  and  unconscious  Magnetic- 
sleep  ;  which  frightful  Magnetic-sleep  must  now  issue  soon  in 
one  of  two  things :  Death  or  Madness  !  The  Federes  carry 
mostly  in  their  pocket  some  earnest  cry  and  Petition,  to  have 
the  '  National  Executive  put  in  action ' ;  or  as  a  step  towards 
that,  to  have  the  King's  Dechecmce,  King's  Forfeiture,  or  at 
least  his  Suspension,  pronounced.  They  shall  be  welcome  to 
the  Legislative,  to  the  Mother  of  Patriotism ;  and  Paris  will 
provide  for  their  lodging. 

Decheance,  indeed  :  and  what  next  ?  A  France  spell-free, 
a  Revolution  saved ;  and  anything,  and  all  things  next !  so 
answer  grimly  Danton  and  the  unlimited  Patriots,  down  deep 
in  their  subterranean  region  of  Plot,  whither  they  have  now 
dived.  Decheance,  answers  Brissot  with  the  limited :  and  if 
next  the  little  Prince  Royal  were  crowned,  and  some  Regency 
of  Girondins  and  recalled  Patriot  Ministry  set  over  him  ? 
Alas,  poor  Brissot ;  looking,  as  indeed  poor  man  does  always, 
on  the  nearest  morrow  as  his  peaceable  promised  land ; 
deciding  what  must  reach  to  the  world's  end,  yet  with  an 
insight  that  reaches  not  beyond  his  own  nose !  Wiser  are  the 
unlimited  subterranean  Patriots,  who  with  light  for  the  hour 
itself,  leave  the  rest  to  the  gods. 

Or  were  it  not,  as  we  now  stand,  the  probablest  issue  of 
all,  that  Brunswick,  in  Coblentz,  just  gathering  his  huge 
limbs  towards  him  to  rise,  might  arrive  first ;  and  stop  both 
Decheance,  and  theorising  on  it  ?  Brunswick  is  on  the  eve  of 
marching ;  with  Eighty-thousand,  they  say ;  fell  Prussians, 
Hessians,  feller  Emigrants  :  a  General  of  the  Great  Frederick, 
with  such  an  Army.  And  our  Armies  ?  And  our  Generals  ? 
As  for  Lafayette,  on  whose  late  visit  a  Committee  is  sitting 
and  all  France  is  jarring  and  censuring,  he  seems  readier  to 
fight  us  than  fight  Brunswick.  Liickner  and  Lafayette  pretend 
to  be  interchanging  corps,  and  are  making  movements,  which 
Patriotism  cannot  understand.  This  only  is  very  clear,  that 
their  corps  go  marching  and  shuttling,  in  the  interior  of  the 
country ;  much  nearer  Paris  than  formerly !  Liickner  has 


JULY  5,  1792]       LET    US    MARCH  271 

ordered  Dumouriez  down  to  him ;  down  from  Maulde,  and 
the  Fortified  Camp  there.  Which  order  the  many-counselled 
Dumouriez,  with  the  Austrians  hanging  close  on  him,  he  busy 
meanwhile  training  a  few  thousands  to  stand  fire  and  be 
soldiers,  declares  that,  come  of  it  what  will,  he  cannot  obey.1 
Will  a  poor  Legislative,  therefore,  sanction  Dumouriez ;  who 
applies  to  it,  'not  knowing  whether  there  is  any  War-ministry'1? 
Or  sanction  Liickner  and  these  Lafayette  movements  ? 

The  poor  Legislative  knows  not  what  to  do.  It  decrees, 
however,  that  the  Staff  of  the  Paris  Guard,  and  indeed  all 
such  Staffs,  for  they  are  Feuillants  mostly,  shall  be  broken 
and  replaced.  It  decrees  earnestly,  in  what  manner  one  can 
declare,  that  the  Country  is  in  Danger.  And  finally,  on  the 
llth  of  July,  the  morrow  of  that  day  when  the  Ministry 
struck  work,  it  decrees  that  the  Country  be,  with  all  despatch, 
declared  in  Danger.  Whereupon  let  the  King  sanction ;  let 
the  Municipality  take  measures :  if  such  Declaration  will  do 
service,  it  need  not  fail. 

In  Danger  truly,  if  ever  Country  was  !  Arise,  O  Country ; 
or  be  trodden  down  to  ignominious  ruin  !  Nay,  are  not  the 
chances  a  hundred  to  one  that  no  rising  of  the  Country  will 
save  it ;  Brunswick,  the  Emigrants,  and  Feudal  Europe  draw- 
ing nigh  ? 


CHAPTER    II 
LET   US   MARCH 

Bur,  to  our  minds,  the  notablest  of  all  these  moving  pheno- 
mena is  that  of  Barbaroux's  *  Six-hundred  Marseillese  who 
know  how  to  die.' 

Prompt  to  the  request  of  Barbarous,  the  Marseilles  Munici- 
pality has  got  these  men  together :  on  the  fifth  morning  of 
July,  the  Townhall  says,  *  Marches  abattez  le  Tyran,  March, 
strike  down  the  Tyrant '  ;f  and  they,  with  grim  appropriate 
1  Dumouriez,  ii.  I,  5.  '  Dampmartin,  ii.  183. 


272  THE    MARSEILLESE      [BK.vi.CH.il, 

*  Marchons?  are  marching.  Long  journey,  doubtful  errand  ^ 
JEnfans  de  la  Patrie,  may  a  good  genius  guide  you  !  Their 
own  wild  heart  and  what  faith  it  has  will  guide  them  :  and 
is  not  that  the  monition  of  some  genius,  better  or  worse? 
Five-hundred  and  Seventeen  able  men,  with  Captains  of  fifties 
and  tens  ;  well  armed  all,  musket  on  shoulder,  sabre  on  thigh  : 
nay  they  drive  three  pieces  of  cannon ;  for  who  knows  what 
obstacles  may  occur  ?  Municipalities  there  are,  paralysed  by 
War-minister ;  Commandants  with  orders  to  stop  even  Feder- 
ation Volunteers :  good,  when  sound  arguments  will  not  open 
a  Towngate,  if  you  have  a  petard  to  shiver  it !  They  have 
left  their  sunny  Phocean  City  and  Seahaven,  with  its  bustle 
and  its  bloom  :  the  thronging  Course,  with  high-frondent 
Avenues,  pitchy  dockyards,  almond  and  olive  groves,  orange- 
trees  on  house-tops,  and  white  glittering  bastides  that  crown 
the  hills,  are  all  behind  them.  They  wend  on  their  wild 
way,  from  the  extremity  of  French  land,  through  unknown 
cities,  toward  an  unknown  destiny ;  with  a  purpose  that 
they  know. 

Much  wondering  at  this  phenomenon,  and  how,  in  a  peace- 
able trading  City,  so  many  householders  or  hearthholders  do 
severally  fling  down  their  crafts  and  industrial  tools ;  gird 
themselves  with  weapons  of  war,  and  set  out  on  a  journey  of 
six  hundred  miles,  to  *  strike  down  the  tyrant,' — you  search 
in  all  Historical  Books,  Pamphlets  and  Newspapers,  for  some 
light  on  it :  unhappily  without  effect.  Rumour  and  Terror 
precede  this  march ;  which  still  echo  on  you ;  the  march  itself 
an  unknown  thing.  Weber,  in  the  back-stairs  of  the  Tuileries, 
has  understood  that  they  were  Formats,  Galley-slaves  and  mere 
scoundrels,  these  Marseillese ;  that,  as  they  marched  through 
Lyons,  the  people  shut  their  shops ; — also  that  the  number  of 
them  was  some  Four  Thousand.  Equally  vague  is  Blanc 
Gilli,  who  likewise  murmurs  about  Formats  and  danger  of 
plunder.1  Formats  they  were  not ;  neither  was  there  plunder 
or  danger  of  it.  Men  of  regular  life,  or  of  the  best-filled 
1  See  Barbarous,  Memoir es  (Note  in  pp.  40,  41). 


JULYS,  1792]       LET    US    MARCH  273 

purse,  they  could  hardly  be ;  the  one  thing  needful  in  them 
was  that  they  *  knew  how  to  die.'  Friend  Dampmartin  saw 
them,  with  his  own  eyes,  march  *  gradually1  through  his 
quarters  at  Villefranche  in  the  Beaujolais  :  but  saw  in  the 
vaguest  manner ;  being  indeed  preoccupied,  and  himself 
minded  for  marching  just  then — across  the  Rhine.  Deep 
was  his  astonishment  to  think  of  such  a  march,  without 
appointment  or  arrangement,  station  or  ration ;  for  the  rest, 
it  was  *  the  same  men  he  had  seen  formerly '  in  the  troubles 
of  the  South  ;  '  perfectly  civil ' ;  though  his  soldiers  could  not 
be  kept  from  talking  a  little  with  them.1 

So  vague  are  all  these ;  Maniteur,  Histoire  Parlementaire 
are  as  good  as  silent :  garrulous  History,  as  is  too  usual,  will 
say  nothing  where  you  most  wish  her  to  speak  !  If  enlightened 
Curiosity  ever  get  sight  of  the  Marseilles  Council-Books,  will 
it  not  perhaps  explore  this  strangest  of  Municipal  procedures ; 
and  feel  called  to  fish-up  what  of  the  Biographies,  creditable 
or  discreditable,  of  these  Five-hundred  and  Seventeen,  the 
stream  of  Time  has  not  yet  irrevocably  swallowed  ? 

As  it  is,  these  Marseillese  remain  inarticulate,  undistinguish- 
able  in  feature ;  a  blackbrowed  Mass,  full  of  grim  fire,  who 
wend  there,  in  the  hot  sultry  weather :  very  singular  to  con- 
template. They  wend  ;  amid  the  infinitude  of  doubt  and  dim 
peril ;  they  not  doubtful :  Fate  and  Feudal  Europe,  having 
decided,  come  girdling  in  from  without ;  they,  having  also 
decided,  to  march  within.  Dusty  of  face,  with  frugal  refresh- 
ment, they  plod  onwards;  unweariable,  not  to  be  turned  aside. 
Such  march  will  become  famous.  The  Thought,  which  works 
voiceless  in  this  blackbrowed  mass,  an  inspired  Tyrtjvan 
Colonel,  Rouget  de  Lille,  whom  the  Earth  still  holds,8  has 
translated  into  grim  melody  and  rhythm  ;  into  his  Hymn  or 
March  of  the  Marseillese :  luckiest  musical-composition  ever 

1  Dampmartin,  ubi  supra. — As  to  Dampmartin  himself  and  what  became  of 
him  further,  see  M f moires  de  la  Comteiu  de  Luhtmau,  Merits  par  elle-mcme  ; 
traduits  de  1'Allemand  (a  Londres  1809),  i.  200-7  >  »>•  78-91. 

1  A.D.   1836. 
VOL.   II.  S 


274  THE    MARSEILLESE     [BK.  VI.  CH.  ill. 

promulgated.  The  sound  of  which  will  make  the  blood  tingle 
in  men's  veins ;  and  whole  Armies  and  Assemblages  will  sing 
it,  with  eyes  weeping  and  burning,  with  hearts  defiant  of 
Death,  Despot  and  Devil. 

One  sees  well,  these  Marseillese  will  be  too  late  for  the 
Federation  Feast.  In  fact,  it  is  not  Champ-de-Mars  Oaths 
that  they  have  in  view.  They  have  quite  another  feat  to  do  : 
a  paralytic  National  Executive  to  set  in  action.  They  must 
*  strike  down '  whatsoever  *  Tyrant,1  or  Martyr-Faineant,  there 
may  be  who  paralyses  it ;  strike  and  be  struck ;  and  on  the 
whole  prosper,  and  know  how  to  die. 


CHAPTER   III 
SOME   CONSOLATION   TO   MANKIND 

OF  the  Federation  Feast  itself  we  shall  say  almost  nothing 
There  are  Tents  pitched  in  the  Champ-de-Mars  ;  tent  for 
National  Assembly ;  tent  for  Hereditary  Representative, — 
who  indeed  is  there  too  early,  and  has  to  wait  long  in  it. 
There  are  Eighty -three  symbolic  Departmental  Trees- of  - 
Liberty ;  trees  and  mats  enough  :  beautifulest  of  all,  there  is 
one  huge  mai,  hung  round  with  effete  Scutcheons,  Emblazon- 
ries and  Genealogy-books,  nay  better  still,  with  Lawyers'-bags, 
*  sacs  de  procedure ' ;  which  shall  be  burnt.  The  Thirty  seat- 
rows  of  that  famed  Slope  are  again  full ;  we  have  a  bright 
Sun ;  and  all  is  marching,  streamering  and  blaring .  but  what 
avails  it  ?  Virtuous  Mayor  Petion,  whom  Feuillantism  had 
suspended,  was  reinstated  only  last  night,  by  Decree  of  the 
Assembly.  Men's  humour  is  of  the  sourest.  Men's  hats  have 
on  them,  written  in  chalk,  «  Vive  Petion ' ;  and  even,  *  Petion  or 
Death,  Petion  ou  la  Mort? 

Poor  Louis,  who  has  waited  till  five  o'clock  before  the 
Assembly  would  arrive,  swears  the  National  Oath  this  time, 
with  a  quilted  cuirass  under  his  waistcoat  which  will  turn 


JULY  1792]  SOME  CONSOLATION  TO  MANKIND   275 

pistol-bullets.1  Madame  de  Stael,  from  that  Royal  Tent, 
stretches  out  the  neck  in  a  kind  of  agony,  lest  the  waving 
multitude  which  received  him  may  not  render  him  back  alive. 
No  cry  of  Vive  le  Roi  salutes  the  ear;  cries  only  of  Vive  Petwn\ 
Petion  ou  la  Mart.  The  National  Solemnity  is  as  it  were 
huddled  by ;  each  cowering  off  almost  before  the  evolutions 
are  gone  through.  The  very  Mai  with  its  Scutcheons  and 
Lawyers'-bags  is  forgotten,  stands  unburnt ;  till  *  certain 
Patriot  Deputies,'  called  by  the  people,  set  a  torch  to  it,  by 
way  of  voluntary  after-piece.  Sadder  Feast  of  Pikes  no  man 
ever  saw. 

Mayor  Petion,  named  on  hats,  is  at  his  zenith  in  this 
Federation  :  Lafayette  again  is  close  upon  his  nadir.  Why 
does  the  storm-bell  of  Saint-Roch  speak  out,  next  Saturday ; 
why  do  the  citizens  shut  their  shops  ?  *  It  is  Sections  defiling, 
it  is  fear  of  effervescence.  Legislative  Committee,  long 
deliberating  on  Lafayette  and  that  Anti-Jacobin  visit  of  his, 
reports,  this  day,  that  there  is  *  not  ground  for  Accusation  !  * 
Peace,  ye  Patriots,  nevertheless  ;  and  let  that  tocsin  cease  :  the 
Debate  is  not  finished,  nor  the  Report  accepted ;  but  Brissot, 
Isnard  and  the  Mountain  will  sift  it,  and  resift  it,  perhaps  for 
some  three  weeks  longer. 

So  many  bells,  storm-bells  and  noises  do  ring; — scarcely 
audible  ;  one  drowning  the  other.  For  example  :  in  this  same 
Lafayette  tocsin,  of  Saturday,  was  there  not  withal  some 
faint  bob-minor,  and  Deputation  of  Legislative,  ringing  the 
Chevalier  Paul  Jones  to  his  long  rest ;  tocsin  or  dirge  now  all 
one  to  him  !  Not  ten  days  hence  Patriot  Brissot,  beshouted 
this  day  by  the  Patriot  Galleries,  shall  find  himself  begroaned 
by  them,  on  account  of  his  limited  Patriotism ;  nay  pelted  at 
while  perorating,  and  *  hit  with  two  prunes."1 8  It  is  a 
distracted  empty-sounding  world ;  of  bob-minors  and  bob- 
majors,  of  triumph  and  terror,  of  rise  and  fall ! 

1  Campan,  ii.  c.  20 ;     De  Stael,  ii.  c.  J. 

1  Monitcur,  Stance  du  21  Juillet  1792.  •  Hist.  ParL  *vi.  185. 


276  THE    MARSEILLESE     [BK.  vi.  CH.  m. 

The  more  touching  is  this  other  Solemnity,  which  happens 
on  the  morrow  of  the  Lafayette  tocsin  :  Proclamation  that  the 
Country  is  in  Danger.  Not  till  the  present  Sunday  could 
such  Solemnity  be.  The  Legislative  decreed  it  almost  a 
fortnight  ago ;  but  Royalty  and  the  ghost  of  a  Ministry  held 
back  as  they  could.  Now  however,  on  this  Sunday,  22d  day 
of  July  1792,  it  will  hold  back  no  longer ;  and  the  Solemnity 
in  very  deed  is.  Touching  to  behold !  Municipality  and 
Mayor  have  on  their  scarfs ;  cannon-salvo  booms  alarm  from 
the  Pont-Neuf,  and  single-gun  at  intervals  all  day.  Guards  are 
mounted,  scarfed  Notabilities,  Halberdiers,  and  a  Cavalcade;, 
with  streamers,  emblematic  flags ;  especially  with  one  huge 
Flag,  flapping  mournfully :  Citoyens,  la  Patrie  est  en  Danger. 
They  roll  through  the  streets,  with  stern-sounding  music,  and 
slow  rattle  of  hoofs ;  pausing  at  set  stations,  and  with  doleful 
blast  of  trumpet  singing  out  through  Herald's  throat,  what  the 
Flag  says  to  the  eye  :  (  Citizens,  our  Country  is  in  Danger  ! ' 

Is  there  a  man's  heart  that  hears  it  without  a  thrill  ?  The 
many-voiced  responsive  hum  or  bellow  of  these  multitudes  is 
not  of  triumph ;  and  yet  it  is  a  sound  deeper  than  triumph. 
But  when  the  long  Cavalcade  and  Proclamation  ended ;  and 
our  huge  Flag  was  fixed  on  the  Pont-Neuf,  another  like  it  on 
the  H6tel-de-Ville,  to  wave  there  till  better  days  ;  and  each 
Municipal  sat  in  the  centre  of  his  Section,  in  a  Tent  raised  in 
some  open  square,  Tents  surmounted  with  flags  of  Patrie  en 
Danger •,  and  topmost  of  all  a  Pike  and  Sonnet  Rouge ;  and, 
on  two  drums  in  front  of  him,  there  lay  a  plank-table,  and  on 
this  an  open  Book,  and  a  Clerk  sat,  like  recording-angel, 
ready  to  write  the  lists,  or  as  we  say  to  enlist !  O,  then,  it 
seems,  the  very  gods  might  have  looked  down  on  it.  Young 
Patriotism,  Culottic  and  Sansculottic,  rushes  forward  emulous  : 
That  is  my  name ;  name,  blood  and  life  is  all  my  country's ; 
why  have  I  nothing  more  !  Youths  of  short  stature  weep 
that  they  are  below  size.  Old  men  come  forward,  a  son  in 
each  hand.  Mothers  themselves  will  grant  the  son  of  their 
travail ;  send  him,  though  with  tears.  And  the  multitude 


JULY  22]     SOME  CONSOLATION  TO  MANKIND     277 

bellows  Vive  la  Patrie,  far  reverberating.  And  fire  flashes  in 
the  eyes  of  men ; — and  at  eventide,  your  Municipal  returns  to 
the  Townhall  followed  by  his  long  train  of  Volunteer  valour ; 
hands-in  his  List ;  says  proudly,  looking  round,  This  is  my 
day's  harvest.1  They  will  march,  on  the  morrow,  to  Soissons  ; 
small  bundle  holding  all  their  chattels. 

So,  with  Vive  la  Patrie,  Vive  la  Llbertt,  stone  Paris  rever- 
berates like  Ocean  in  his  caves;  day  after  day,  Municipals 
enlisting  in  tricolor  Tent ;  the  Flag  flapping  on  Pont-Neuf 
and  Townhall,  Cltoyens,  la  Patrie  est  en  Danger.  Some  Ten- 
thousand  fighters,  without  discipline  but  full  of  heart,  are  on 
march  in  few  days.  The  like  is  doing  in  every  Town  of 
France. — Consider,  therefore,  whether  the  Country  will  want 
defenders,  had  we  but  a  National  Executive  ?  Let  the  Sections 
and  Primary  Assemblies,  at  any  rate,  become  Permanent ! 
They  do  become  Permanent,  and  sit  continually  in  Paris,  and 
over  France,  by  Legislative  Decree,  dated  Wednesday  the  25th.1 

Mark  contrariwise  how,  in  these  very  hours,  dated  the  25th, 
Brunswick  *  shakes  himself,  f&branlej  in  Coblentz ;  and  takes 
the  road  !  Shakes  himself  indeed  ;  one  spoken  word  becomes 
such  a  shaking.  Successive,  simultaneous  dirl  of  thirty- 
thousand  muskets  shouldered ;  prance  and  jingle  of  ten- 
thousand  horsemen,  fanfaronading  Emigrants  in  the  van ; 
drum,  kettle-drum ;  noise  of  weeping,  swearing ;  and  the 
immeasurable  lumbering  clank  of  baggage- wagons  and  camp- 
kettles  that  groan  into  motion :  all  this  is  Brunswick  shaking 
himself;  not  without  all  this  does  the  one  man  march, 
*  covering  a  space  of  forty  miles/  Still  less  without  his 
Manifesto,  dated,  as  we  say,  the  25th ;  a  State- Paper  worthy 
of  attention  ! 

By  this  Document,  it  would  seem  great  things  are  in  store 
for  France.  The  universal  French  People  shall  now  have  per- 
mission to  rally  round  Brunswick  and  his  Emigrant  Seigneurs  ; 
tyranny  of  a  Jacobin  Faction  shall  oppress  them  no  more ; 

1  Tableau  de  I*  Rtvolutien,  §  Patrie  en  Danger. 
*  Moniteur,  Seance  da  25  juilet  1792. 


278  THE    MARSEILLESE     [BK.  VI.  CH.  m, 

but  they  shall  return,  and  find  favour  with  their  own  good 
King;  who,  by  Royal  Declaration  (three  years  ago)  of  the 
Twenty-third  of  June,  said  that  he  would  himself  make  them 
happy.  As  for  National  Assembly,  and  other  Bodies  of  Men 
invested  with  some  temporary  shadow  of  authority,  they  are 
charged  to  maintain  the  King's  Cities  and  Strong  Places 
intact,  till  Brunswick  arrive  to  take  delivery  of  them. 
Indeed,  quick  submission  may  extenuate  many  things ;  but 
to  this  end  it  must  be  quick.  Any  National  Guard  or  other 
unmilitary  person  found  resisting  in  arms  shall  be  'treated 
as  a  traitor ' ;  that  is  to  say,  hanged  with  promptitude. 
For  the  rest,  if  Paris,  before  Brunswick  gets  thither,  offer  any 
insult  to  the  King ;  or,  for  example,  suffer  a  Faction  to  carry 
the  King  away  elsewhither;  in  that  case,  Paris  shall  be  blasted 
asunder  with  cannon-shot  and  l  military  execution.1  Likewise 
all  other  Cities,  which  may  witness,  and  not  resist  to  the 
uttermost,  such  forced-march  of  his  Majesty,  shall  be  blasted 
asunder ;  and  Paris  and  every  City  of  them,  starting-place, 
course  and  goal  of  said  sacrilegious  forced-march,  shall,  as 
rubbish  and  smoking  ruin,  lie  there  for  a  sign.  Such 
vengeance  were  indeed  signal,  '  an  msigne  vengeance ' : — O 
Brunswick,  what  words  thou  writest  and  blusterest !  In  this 
Paris,  as  hi  old  Nineveh,  are  so  many  score  thousands  that 
know  not  the  right  hand  from  the  left,  and  also  much  cattle. 
Shall  the  very  milk-cows,  hard-living  cadgers'-asses,  and  poor 
little  canary-birds  die  ? 

Nor  is  Royal  and  Imperial  Prussian- Austrian  Declaration 
wanting :  setting  forth,  in  the  amplest  manner,  their  Sans- 
souci-Schonbrunn  version  of  this  whole  French  Revolution,  since 
the  first  beginning  of  it;  and  with  what  grief  these  high 
heads  have  seen  such  things  done  under  the  Sun.  However,  'as 
some  small  consolation  to  mankind,' *  they  do  now  despatch 
Brunswick;  regardless  of  expense,  as  one  might  say,  or  of 
sacrifices  on  their  own  part;  for  is  it  not  the  first  duty  to 
console  men  ? 

1  Annual  Register  (1792),  p.  236. 


JULY  25,  1792]     SUBTERRANEAN  £79 

Serene  Highnesses,  who  sit  there  protocolling  and  mani- 
festoing,  and  consoling  mankind !  how  were  it  if,  for  once  in 
the  thousand  years,  your  parchments,  formularies  and  reasons 
of  state  were  blown  to  the  four  winds;  and  Reality  Sans- 
indispensables  stared  you,  even  you,  in  the  face ;  and  Man- 
kind said  for  itself  what  the  thing  was  that  would  console 
it?— 


CHAPTER    IV 
SUBTERRANEAN 

Bur  judge  if  there  was  comfort  in  this  to  the  Sections  all 
sitting  permanent;  deliberating  how  a  National  Executive 
could  be  put  in  action  ! 

High  rises  the  response,  not  of  cackling  terror  but  of 
crowing  counter-defiance,  and  Vive  la  Nation ;  young  Valour 
streaming  towards  the  Frontiers;  Patrie  en  Danger  mutely 
beckoning  on  the  Pont-Neuf.  Sections  are  busy,  in  their 
permanent  Deep ;  and  down,  lower  still,  works  unlimited 
Patriotism,  seeking  salvation  in  plot.  Insurrection,  you 
would  say,  becomes  once  more  the  sacredest  of  duties  ?  Com- 
mittee, self-chosen,  is  sitting  at  the  Sign  of  the  Golden  Sun ; 
Journalist  Carra,  Camille  Desmoulins,  Alsatian  Westermann 
friend  of  Danton,  American  Fournier  of  Martinique; — a 
Committee  not  unknown  to  Mayor  Petion,  who,  as  an  official 
person,  must  sleep  with  one  eye  open.  Not  unknown  to 
Procureur  Manuel ;  least  of  all  to  Procureur-Substitute 
Danton  !  He,  wrapped  in  darkness,  being  also  official,  bears  it 
on  his  giant  shoulders ;  cloudy  invisible  Atlas  of  the  whole. 

Much  is  invisible ;  the  very  Jacobins  have  their  reticences. 
Insurrection  is  to  be  :  but  when  ?  This  only  we  can  discern, 
that  such  Federes  as  are  not  yet  gone  to  Soissons,  as  indeed 
are  not  inclined  to  go  yet,  '  for  reasons,'  says  the  Jacobin 
President,  *  which  it  may  be  interesting  not  to  state,""  have  got 
a  Central  Committee  sitting  close  by,  under  the  roof  of  the 


280  THE    MARSEILLESE     [BK.  vi.  CH.  IV. 

Mother  Society  herself.  Also,  what  in  such  ferment  and 
danger  of  effervescence  is  surely  proper,  the  Forty-eight 
Sections  have  got  their  Central  Committee ;  intended  *  for 
prompt  communication.'  To  which  Central  Committee  the 
Municipality,  anxious  to  have  it  at  hand,  could  not  refuse  an 
Apartment  in  the  H6tel-de-Ville. 

Singular  City !  For  overhead  of  all  this,  there  is  the 
customary  baking  and  brewing ;  Labour  hammers  and  grinds. 
Frilled  promenaders  saunter  under  the  trees ;  white-muslin 
promenaderess,  in  green  parasol,  leaning  on  your  arm.  Dogs 
dance,  and  shoeblacks  polish,  on  that  Pont-Neuf  itself,  where 
Fatherland  is  in  danger.  So  much  goes  its  course ;  and  yet 
the  course  of  all  things  is  nigh  altering  and  ending. 

Look  at  that  Tuileries  and  Tuileries  Garden.  Silent  all  as 
Sahara ;  none  entering  save  by  ticket !  They  shut  their 
Gates,  after  the  day  of  the  Black  Breeches  ;  a  thing  they  had 
the  liberty  to  do.  However  the  National  Assembly  grumbled 
something  about  Terrace  of  the  Feuillants,  how  said  Terrace 
lay  contiguous  to  the  back-entrance  to  their  Salle,  and  was 
partly  National  Property  ;  and  so  now  National  Justice  has 
stretched  a  Tricolor  Riband  athwart  it,  by  way  of  boundary- 
line  ;  respected  with  splenetic  strictness  by  all  Patriots.  It 
hangs  there,  that  Tricolor  boundary-line ;  carries  *  satirical 
inscriptions  on  cards,'  generally  in  verse ;  and  all  beyond  this 
:s  called  Coblentz,  and  remains  vacant;  silent  as  a  fateful 
Golgotha ;  sunshine  and  umbrage  alternating  on  it  hi  vain. 
Fateful  Circuit :  what  hope  can  dwell  in  it  ?  Mysterious 
Tickets  of  Entry  introduce  themselves ;  speak  of  Insurrection 
very  imminent.  Rivarol's  staff  of  Genius  had  better  purchase 
blunderbusses ;  Grenadier  bonnets,  red  Swiss  uniforms  may  be 
useful.  Insurrection  will  come ;  but  likewise  will  it  not  be 
met  ?  Staved  off,  one  may  hope,  till  Brunswick  arrive  ? 

But  consider  withal  if  the  Bourne-stones  and  Portable-chairs 
remain  silent ;  if  the  Herald's  College  of  Bill-Stickers  sleep ! 
Louvefs  Sentinel  warns  gratis  on  all  walls ;  Sulleau  is  busy ; 
Peoples-Friend  Marat  and  King's-Friend  Royou  croak  and 


JULY  1792]  SUBTERRANEAN  281 

counter-croak.  For  the  man  Marat,  though  long  hidden  since 
that  Champ-de-Mars  Massacre,  is  still  alive.  He  has  lain,  who 
knows  in  what  cellars ;  perhaps  in  Legendre's ;  fed  by  a 
steak  of  Legendre's  killing :  but,  since  April,  the  bull-frog 
voice  of  him  sounds  again  ;  hoarsest  of  earthly  cries.  For  the 
present,  black  terror  haunts  him :  O  brave  Barbaroux,  wilt 
thou  not  smuggle  me  to  Marseilles,  *  disguised  as  a  jockey '  ? l 
In  Palais  Royal  and  all  public  places,  as  we  read,  there  is 
sharp  activity;  private  individuals  haranguing  that  Valour 
may  enlist ;  haranguing  that  the  Executive  may  be  put  in 
action.  Royalist  Journals  ought  to  be  solemnly  burnt : 
argument  thereupon ;  debates,  which  generally  end  in  single- 
stick, coups  de  cannes*  Or  think  of  this  ;  the  hour  midnight ; 
place  Salle  de  Manege ;  august  Assembly  just  adjourning ; 
•  Citizens  of  both  sexes  enter  in  a  rush,  exclaiming,  Vengeance ; 
they  are  poisoning  our  Brothers ' ; — baking  brayed-glass  among 
their  bread  at  Soissons !  Vergniaud  has  to  speak  soothing 
words,  How  Commissioners  are  already  sent  to  investigate  this 
brayed-glass,  and  do  what  is  needful  therein  ; — till  the  rush  of 
Citizens  *  makes  profound  silence  * ;  and  goes  home  to  its  bed. 
Such  is  Paris ;  the  heart  of  a  France  like  to  it.  Preter- 
natural suspicion,  doubt,  disquietude,  nameless  anticipation, 
from  shore  to  shore : — and  those  blackbrowed  Marseillese 
marching,  dusty,  unwearied,  through  the  midst  of  it;  not 
doubtful  they.  Marching  to  the  grim  music  of  their  hearts, 
they  consume  continually  the  long  road,  these  three  weeks 
and  more ;  heralded  by  Terror  and  Rumour.  The  Brest 
Fecleres  arrive  on  the  26th ;  through  hurrahing  streets. 
Determined  men  are  these  also,  bearing  or  not  bearing  the 
Sacred  Pikes  of  Chateau- Vieux ;  and  on  the  whole  decidedly 
disinclined  for  Soissons  as  yet  Surely  the  Marseillese 
Brethren  do  draw  nigher  all  days. 

1  Barbaroux,  p.  60. 

1  Newspapers,  Narratives  and  Documents  (Hist.  Par!.   XT.  240 ;  xvi.  399). 


282  THE    MARSEILLESE       [BK.  VI.  CH.  v. 

CHAPTER   V 

AT   DINNER 

IT  was  a  bright  day  for  Charenton,  that  29th  of  the  month, 
when  the  Marseillese  Brethren  actually  came  in  sight. 
Barbaroux,  Santerre  and  Patriots  have  gone  out  to  meet  the 
grim  Wayfarers.  Patriot  clasps  dusty  Patriot  to  his  bosom  ; 
there  is  footwashing  and  refection :  *  dinner  of  twelve-hundred 
covers  at  the  Blue  Dial,  Cadran  Bleu ' ;  and  deep  interior 
consultation,  that  one  wots  not  of.1  Consultation  indeed 
which  comes  to  little ;  for  Santerre,  with  an  open  purse,  with 
a  loud  voice,  has  almost  no  head.  Here,  however,  we  repose 
this  night :  on  the  morrow  is  public  entry  into  Paris. 

Of  which  public  entry  the  Day-Historians,  Diurncdists^  or 
Journalists  as  they  call  themselves,  have  preserved  record 
enough.  How  Saint- Antoine  male  and  female,  and  Paris  gene- 
rally, gave  brotherly  welcome,  with  bravo  and  hand-clapping, 
in  crowded  streets ;  and  all  passed  in  the  peaceablest  manner  ; 
— except  it  might  be  our  Marseillese  pointed  out  here  and 
there  a  riband-cockade,  and  beckoned  that  it  should  be 
snatched  away,  and  exchanged  for  a  wool  one;  which  was 
done.  How  the  Mother  Society  in  a  body  has  come  as  far  as 
the  Bastille-ground,  to  embrace  you.  How  you  then  wend 
onwards,  triumphant,  to  the  Townhall,  to  be  embraced  by 
Mayor  Petion ;  to  put  down  your  muskets  in  the  Barracks  of 
Nouvelle  France,  not  far  off; — then  towards  the  appointed 
Tavern  in  the  Champs  Elysees,  to  enjoy  a  frugal  Patriot 
repast.2 

Of  all  which  the  indignant  Tuileries  may,  by  its  Tickets  of 
Entry,  have  warning.  Red  Swiss  look  doubly  sharp  to  their 
Chateau-Grates; — though  surely  there  is  no  danger?  Blue 

1  Deux  Amis,  viii.  90-101. 

*  Hist.  Parl.  xvL  196.     See  Barbarous,  pp.  51-5. 


JULY  29,  1792]  AT    DINNER 

Grenadiers  of  the  Filles-Saint-Thomas  Section  are  on  duty 
there  this  day :  men  of  Agio,  as  we  have  seen ;  with  stuffed 
purses,  riband-cockades ;  among  whom  serves  Weber.  A 
party  of  these  latter,  with  Captains,  with  sundry  Feuillant 
Notabilities,  Moreau  de  Saint-Mery  of  the  three-thousand 
orders,  and  others,  have  been  dining,  much  more  respectably, 
in  a  Tavern  hard  by.  They  have  dined,  and  are  now  drink- 
ing Loyal-Patriotic  toasts ;  while  the  Marseillese,  National- 
Patriotic  merely,  are  about  sitting  down  to  their  frugal  covers 
of  delf.  How  it  happened  remains  to  this  day  undemon- 
strable ;  but  the  external  fact  is,  certain  of  these  Filles-Saint- 
Thomas  Grenadiers  do  issue  from  their  Tavern ;  perhaps 
touched,  surely  not  yet  muddled  with  any  liquor  they  have 
had ; — issue  in  the  professed  intention  of  testifying  to  the 
Marseillese,  or  to  the  multitude  of  Paris  Patriots  who  stroll 
in  these  spaces,  That  they,  the  Filles-Saint-Thomas  men,  if 
well  seen  into,  are  not  a  whit  less  Patriotic  than  any  other 
class  of  men  whatever. 

It  was  a  rash  errand  !  For  how  can  the  strolling  multitude 
credit  such  a  thing ;  or  do  other  indeed  than  hoot  at  it, 
provoking  and  provoked  ? — till  Grenadier  sabres  stir  in  the 
scabbard,  and  thereupon  a  sharp  shriek  rises  :  '2  nous, 
MarsciUuls,  Help,  Marseillese  ! '  Quick  as  lightning,  for  the 
frugal  repast  is  not  yet  served,  that  Marseillese  Tavern  flings 
itself  open  :  by  door,  by  window  ;  running,  bounding,  vault 
forth  the  Five-hundred  and  Seventeen  undined  Patriots ;  and, 
sabre  flashing  from  thigh,  are  on  the  scene  of  controversy. 
Will  ye  parley,  ye  Grenadier  Captains  and  Official  Persons ; 
*  with  faces  grown  suddenly  pale/  the  Deponents  say  ?  *  Ad- 
visabler  were  instant  moderately  swift  retreat !  The  Filles- 
Saint-Thomas  men  retreat,  back  foremost ;  then,  alas,  face 
foremost,  at  treble-quick  time ;  the  Marseillese,  according  to 
a  Deponent,  *  clearing  the  fences  and  ditches  after  them,  like 
lions  :  Messieurs,  it  was  an  imposing  spectacle.'1 

Thus  they  retreat,  the  Marseillese  following.      Swift  and 

1  Moniteur,  Stances  du  30,  du  31  Juillct  1792  (Hist.  Parl.  xvi  197.310). 


284  THE    MARSEILLESE       [BK.  vi.  CH.  v. 

swifter,  towards  the  Tuileries  :  where  the  Drawbridge  receives 
the  bulk  of  the  fugitives ;  and,  then  suddenly  drawn  up,  saves 
them  ;  or  else  the  green  mud  of  the  Ditch  does  it.  The  bulk 
of  them ;  not  all ;  ah,  no !  Moreau  de  Saint-Mary,  for 
example,  being  too  fat,  could  not  fly  fast ;  he  got  a  stroke, 
fatf-stroke  only,  over  the  shoulder-blades,  and  fell  prone ; — 
and  disappears  there  from  the  History  of  the  Revolution. 
Cuts  also  there  were,  pricks  in  the  posterior  fleshy  parts ; 
much  rending  of  skirts,  and  other  discrepant  waste.  But 
poor  Sublieutenant  Duhamel,  innocent  Change-broker,  what  a 
lot  for  him  !  He  turned  on  his  pursuer,  or  pursuers,  with  a 
pistol ;  he  fired  and  missed ;  drew  a  second  pistol,  and  again 
fired  and  missed ;  then  ran  :  unhappily  in  vain.  In  the  Rue 
Saint-Florentin,  they  clutched  him ;  thrust  him  through,  in 
red  rage  :  that  was  the  end  of  the  New  Era,  and  of  all  Eras, 
to  poor  Duhamel. 

Pacific  readers  can  fancy  what  sort  of  grace-before-meat 
this  was  to  frugal  Patriotism.  Also  how  the  Battalion  of  the 
Filles-Saint-Thomas  '  drew  out  in  arms,1  luckily  without 
further  result;  how  there  was  accusation  at  the  Bar  of  the 
Assembly,  and  counter-accusation  and  defence ;  Marseillese 
challenging  the  sentence  of  a  free  jury-court, — which  never 
got  empanneled.  We  ask  rather,  What  the  upshot  of  all 
these  distracted  wildly-accumulating  things  may,  by  proba- 
bility, be  ?  Some  upshot ;  and  the  time  draws  nigh  !  Busy 
are  Central  Committees,  of  Federes  at  the  Jacobins  Church,  of 
Sections  at  the  Townhall ;  Reunion  of  Carra,  Camille  and 
Company  at  the  Golden  Sun.  Busy ;  like  submarine  deities, 
or  call  them  mud-gods,  working  there  in  deep  murk  of  waters ; 
till  the  thing  be  ready. 

And  how  your  National  Assembly,  like  a  ship  water-logged, 
helmless,  lies  tumbling ;  the  Galleries,  of  shrill  Women,  of 
Federes  with  sabres,  bellowing  down  on  it,  not  unfrightful ; — 
and  waits  where  the  waves  of  chance  may  please  to  strand  it ; 
suspicious,  nay  on  the  Left-side,  conscious,  what  submarine 
Explosion  is  meanwhile  a-charging !  Petition  for  King's  For- 


AUG.  3-5,  1792  J          ATDINNER  285 

feiture  rises  often  there:  Petition  from  Paris  Section,  from 
Provincial  Patriot  Towns ;  *  from  Alencon,  Brian^on,  and  the 
Traders  at  the  Fair  of  Beaucaire/  Or  what  of  these  ?  On 
the  3d  of  August,  Mayor  Petion  and  the  Municipality  come 
petitioning  for  Forfeiture  :  they  openly,  in  their  tricolor  Muni- 
cipal scarfs.  Forfeiture  is  what  all  Patriots  now  want  and 
expect.  All  Brissotins  want  Forfeiture ;  with  the  little  Prince 
Royal  for  King,  and  us  for  Protector  over  him.  Emphatic 
Fede'res  ask  the  Legislature :  *  Can  you  save  us,  or  not  ? " 
Forty-seven  Sections  have  agreed  to  Forfeiture ;  only  that  of 
the  Filles- Saint-Thomas  pretending  to  disagree.  Nay  Section 
Mauconseil  declares  Forfeiture  to  be,  properly  speaking,  come ; 
Mauconseil,  for  one,  'does  from  this  day,'  the  last  of  July, 

*  cease  allegiance  to  Louis,1  and  take  minute  of  the  same  before 
all  men.     A  thing  blamed  aloud ;  but  which  will  be  praised 
aloud ;  and  the  name  Mauconseil,  of  Ill-counsel,  be  thence- 
forth changed  to  Bonconseil,  of  Good-counsel. 

President  Danton,  in  the  Cordeliers  Section,  does  another 
thing :  invites  all  Passive  Citizens  to  take  place  among  the 
Active  in  Section-business,  one  peril  threatening  all.  Thus 
he,  though  an  official  person ;  cloudy  Atlas  of  the  whole. 
Likewise  he  manages  to  have  that  blackbrowed  Battalion  of 
Marseillese  shifted  to  new  Barracks,  in  his  own  region  of  the 
remote  Southeast.  Sleek  Chaumette,  cruel  Billaud,  Deputy 
Chabot  the  Disfrocked,  Huguenin  with  the  tocsin  in  his 
heart,  will  welcome  them  there.  Wherefore  again  and  again, 

*  O  Legislators,  can  you  save  us  or  not  ? '     Poor  Legislators ; 
with  their  Legislature  water-logged,  volcanic  Explosion  charg- 
ing under  it !     Forfeiture  shall  be  debated  on  the  ninth  of 
August ;  that  miserable  business  of  Lafayette  may  be  expected 
to  terminate  on  the  eighth. 

Or  will  the  humane  Reader  glance  into  the  Levee-day  of 
Sunday  the  fifth  ?  The  last  Levee !  Not  for  a  long  time, 

*  never,'  says  Bertrand-Moleville,  had  a  Levee  been  so  brilliant, 
at  least  so  crowded.     A  sad  presaging  interest  sat  on  every 
face ;  Bertrand's  own  eyes  were  filled  with  tears.     For  indeed, 


286  THE    MARSEILLESE     [BK.  vi.  CH.  VL 

outside  of  that  Tricolor  Riband  on  the  Feuillants  Terrace, 
Legislature  is  debating,  Sections  are  defiling,  all  Paris  is  astir 
this  very  Sunday,  demanding  Dechtance.1  Here,  however, 
within  the  riband,  a  grand  proposal  is  on  foot,  for  the 
hundredth  time,  of  carrying  his  Majesty  to  Rouen  and  the 
Castle  of  Gaillon.  Swiss  at  Courbevoye  are  hi  readiness ; 
much  is  ready ;  Majesty  himself  seems  almost  ready.  Never- 
theless, for  the  hundredth  time,  Majesty,  when  near  the  point 
of  action,  draws  back ;  writes,  after  one  has  waited,  palpitat- 
ing, an  endless  summer  day,  that  'he  has  reason  to  believe 
the  Insurrection  is  not  so  ripe  as  you  suppose.'  Whereat 
Bertrand-Moleville  breaks  forth  'into  extremity  at  once  of 
spleen  and  despair,  cFhumeur  et  de  dtsespoirS  * 


CHAPTER    VI 

THE   STEEPLES   AT   MIDNIGHT 

FOR,  hi  truth,  the  Insurrection  is  just  about  ripe.  Thurs- 
day is  the  ninth  of  the  month  August :  if  Forfeiture  be  not 
pronounced  by  the  Legislature  that  day,  we  must  pronounce 
it  ourselves. 

Legislature?  A  poor  water-logged  Legislature  can  pro- 
nounce nothing.  On  Wednesday  the  eighth,  after  endless 
oratory  once  again,  they  cannot  even  pronounce  Accusation 
against  Lafayette ;  but  absolve  him, — hear  it,  Patriotism  ! — 
by  a  majority  of  two  to  one.  Patriotism  hears  it ;  Patriot- 
ism, hounded-on  by  Prussian  Terror,  by  Preternatural  Suspi- 
cion, roars  tumultuous  round  the  Salle  de  Manege,  all  day ; 
insults  many  leading  Deputies,  of  the  absolvent  Right-side ; 
nay  chases  them,  collars  them  with  loud  menace :  Deputy 
Vaublanc,  and  others  of  the  like,  are  glad  to  take  refuge  in 
Guardhouses,  and  escape  by  the  back  window.  And  so,  next 

1  Hist.  Parl.  xvi.  337-9. 

1  Bertrand-Moleville,  Mjmoires,  ii.  129. 


AUG.  9,  1792]     THE  STEEPLES  AT  MIDNIGHT     287 

day,  there  is  infinite  complaint ;  Letter  after  Letter  from 
insulted  Deputy ;  mere  complaint,  debate  and  self-cancelling 
jargon :  the  sun  of  Thursday  sets  like  the  others,  and  no 
Forfeiture  pronounced.  Wherefore  in  fine,  To  your  tents,  O 
Israel ! 

The  Mother  Society  ceases  speaking ;  groups  cease  har- 
anguing :  Patriots,  with  closed  lips  now,  *  take  one  another's 
arm ' ;  walk  off,  in  rows,  two  and  two,  at  a  brisk  business-pace  ; 
and  vanish  afar  in  the  obscure  places  of  the  East.1  Santerre 
is  ready;  or  we  will  make  him  ready.  Forty-seven  of  the 
Forty-eight  Sections  are  ready ;  nay,  Filles- Saint-Thomas  itself 
turns  up  the  Jacobin  side  of  it,  turns  down  the  Feuillant  side  of 
it,  and  is  ready  too.  Let  the  unlimited  Patriot  look  to  his 
weapon,  be  it  pike,  be  it  firelock ;  and  the  Brest  brethren, — 
above  all,  the  black-browed  Marseillese,  prepare  themselves  for 
the  extreme  hour !  Syndic  Roederer  knows,  and  laments  or 
not  as  the  issue  may  turn,  that  *  five-thousand  ball-cartridges, 
within  these  few  days,  have  been  distributed  to  FedereX  at 
theHotel-de-Ville." 

And  ye  likewise,  gallant  gentlemen,  defenders  of  Royalty, 
crowd  ye  on  your  side  to  the  Tuileries.  Not  to  a  Levee :  no, 
to  a  Couchee ;  where  much  will  be  put  to  bed.  Your  Tickets 
of  Entry  are  needful ;  needfuler  your  blunderbusses ! — They 
come  and  crowd,  like  gallant  men  who  also  know  how  to  die  • 
old  Maille  the  Camp-Marshal  has  come,  his  eyes  gleaming  once 
again,  though  dimmed  by  the  rheum  of  almost  fourscore  years. 
Courage,  Brothers !  We  have  a  thousand  red  Swiss  ;  men 
stanch  of  heart,  stedfast  as  the  granite  of  their  Alps.  National 
Grenadiers  are  at  least  friends  of  Order ;  Commandant  Mandat 
breathes  loyal  ardour,  will  *  answer  for  it  on  his  head." 
Mandat  will,  and  his  Staff;  for  the  Staff,  though  there  stands 
a  doom  and  Decree  to  that  effect,  is  happily  never  yet 
dissolved. 

Commandant  Mandat  has  corresponded  with  Mayor  Petion  ; 

1  Deux  Amis,  viii.  129-88. 

1  Roederer  k  la  Barre  (Stance  du  9  Aoflt,  in  Hitt.  ParL  xvi  393). 


288  THE    MARSEILLESE     [BK.  vi.  CH.  vi. 

carries  a  written  Order  from  him  these  three  days,  to  repel 
force  by  force.  A  squadron  on  the  Pont-Neuf  with  cannon 
shall  turn  back  these  Marseillese  coming  across  the  River :  a 
squadron  at  the  Townhall  shall  cut  Saint- Antoine  in  two,  '  as 
it  issues  from  the  Arcade  Saint- Jean ' ;  drive  one-half  back  to 
the  obscure  East,  drive  the  other  half  forward  *  through  the 
Wickets  of  the  Louvre.'  Squadrons  not  a  few,  and  mounted 
squadrons  ;  squadrons  in  the  Palais  Royal,  in  the  Place  Ven- 
dome  :  all  these  shall  charge,  at  the  right  moment ;  sweep 
this  street,  and  then  sweep  that.  Some  new  Twentieth  of 
June  we  shall  have  ;  only  still  more  ineffectual  ?  Or  probably 
the  Insurrection  will  not  dare  to  rise  at  all  ?  Mandat's 
Squadrons,  Horse-gendarmerie  and  blue  Guards  march,  clatter- 
ing, tramping;  Mandat's  Cannoneers  rumble.  Under  cloud 
of  night ;  to  the  sound  of  his  generale,  which  begins  drumming 
when  men  should  go  to  bed.  It  is  the  9th  night  of  August 
1792. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  Forty-eight  Sections  correspond  by 
swift  messengers ;  are  choosing  each  their  *  three  Delegates 
with  full  powers.'  Syndic  Roederer,  Mayor  Petion  are  sent 
for  to  the  Tuileries :  courageous  Legislators,  when  the  drum 
beats  danger,  should  repair  to  their  Salle.  Demoiselle 
Theroigne  has  on  her  grenadier-bonnet,  short-skirted  riding- 
habit  ;  two  pistols  garnish  her  small  waist,  and  sabre  hangs  in 
baldric  by  her  side. 

Such  a  game  is  playing  in  this  Paris  Pandemonium,  or 
City  of  All  the  Devils ! — And  yet  the  Night,  as  Mayor 
Petion  walks  here  hi  the  Tuileries  Garden,  *  is  beautiful  and 
calm';  Orion  and  the  Pleiades  glitter  down  quite  serene. 
Petion  has  come  forth,  the  '  heat '  inside  was  so  oppressive.1 
Indeed,  his  Majesty's  reception  of  him  was  of  the  roughest ; 
as  it  well  might  be.  And  now  there  is  no  outgate ;  Mandat's 
blue  Squadrons  turn  you  back  at  every  Grate ;  nay  the  Filles- 

1  Roederer,    Ckronique  de  Cinquante  Jours ;    Rlcit  dt  Fetion.      Townhall 
Records,  etc.  (in  Hist.  Parl.  xvi.  399-466). 


AUG.  9,  1792]     THE   STEEPLES   AT  MIDNIGHT     289 

Saint-Thomas  Grenadiers  give  themselves  liberties  of  tongue, 
How  a  virtuous  Mayor  *  shall  pay  for  it,  if  there  be  mischief,' 
and  the  like ;  though  others  again  are  full  of  civility.  Surely 
if  any  man  in  France  is  in  straits  this  night,  it  is  Mayor 
Petion  :  bound,  under  pain  of  death,  one  may  say,  to  smile 
dexterously  with  the  one  side  of  his  face,  and  weep  with  the 
other ; — death  if  he  do  it  not  dexterously  enough  !  Not  till 
four  in  the  morning  does  a  National  Assembly,  hearing  of  his 
plight,  summon  him  over  *  to  give  account  of  Paris ' ;  of  which 
he  knows  nothing :  whereby,  however,  he  shall  get  home  to 
bed,  and  only  his  gilt  coach  be  left.  Scarcely  less  delicate  is 
Syndic  Rcederer's  task ;  who  must  wait,  whether  he  will 
lament  or  not,  till  he  see  the  issue.  Janus  Bifrons,  or 
Mr.  Faring-both-ways,  as  vernacular  Bunyan  has  it !  They 
walk  there,  in  the  meanwhile,  these  two  Januses,  with  others 
of  the  like  double  conformation ;  and  '  talk  of  indifferent 
matters.' 

RoBderer,  from  time  to  time,  steps  in  ;  to  listen,  to  speak  ; 
to  send  for  the  Department-Directory  itself,  he  their  Procureur 
Syndic  not  seeing  how  to  act.  The  Apartments  are  all 
crowded  ;  some  seven-hundred  gentlemen  in  black  elbowing, 
bustling ;  red  Swiss  standing  like  rocks ;  ghost,  or  partial- 
ghost  of  a  Ministry,  with  Ro3clerer  and  advisers,  hovering 
round  their  Majesties ;  old  Marshal  Mai  lie  kneeling  at  the 
King's  feet  to  say,  He  and  these  gallant  gentlemen  are  come 
to  die  for  him.  List !  through  the  placid  midnight ;  clang 
of  the  distant  stormbell  !  So,  in  very  sooth  :  steeple  after 
steeple  takes  up  the  wondrous  tale.  Black  Courtiers  listen 
at  the  windows,  opened  for  air ;  discriminate  the  steeple- 
bells  :l  this  is  the  tocsin  of  Saint-Roch ;  that  again,  is  it  not 
Saint-Jacques,  named  de  la  Boucherie  ?  Yes,  Messieurs  !  Or 
even  Saint-Germain  TAuxeiTois,  hear  ye  it  not  ?  The  same 
metal  that  rang  storm,  two  hundred  and  twenty  years  ago ; 
but  by  a  Majesty's  order  then  ;  on  Saint- Bartholomew's  Eve  !a 
— So  go  the  steeple-bells ;  which  Courtiers  can  discriminate, 

1  Rcederer,  ubi  supri.  *  24th  August  1573. 

VOL.    II.  T 


290  THE    MARSEILLESE     [BK.  vi.  CH.  VL 

Nay,  meseems,  there  is  the  Townhall  itself ;  we  know  it  by  its 
sound  !  Yes,  Friends,  that  is  the  Townhall ;  discoursing  so, 
to  the  Night.  Miraculously ;  by  miraculous  metal- tongue  and 
man's-arm :  Marat  himself,  if  you  knew  it,  is  pulling  at  the 
rope  there  !  Marat  is  pulling ;  Robespierre  lies  deep,  invisible 
for  the  next  forty  hours ;  and  some  men  have  heart,  and  some 
have  as  good  as  none,  and  not  even  frenzy  will  give  them 
any. 

What  struggling  confusion,  as  the  issue  slowly  draws  on ; 
and  the  doubtful  Hour,  with  pain  and  blind  struggle,  brings 
forth  its  Certainty,  never  to  be  abolished ! — The  Full-power 
Delegates,  three  from  each  Section,  a  Hundred  and  forty-four 
in  all,  got  gathered  at  the  Townhall,  about  midnight. 
Mandat's  Squadron,  stationed  there,  did  not  hinder  their 
entering :  are  they  not  the  *  Central  Committee  of  the 
Sections'  who  sit  here  usually;  though  in  greater  number 
tonight  ?  They  are  there :  presided  by  Confusion,  Irresolu- 
tion, and  the  Clack  of  Tongues.  Swift  scouts  fly ;  Rumour 
buzzes,  of  black  Courtiers,  red  Swiss,  of  Mandat  and  his 
Squadrons  that  shall  charge.  Better  put  off  the  Insurrection  ? 
Yes,  put  it  off.  Ha,  hark  !  Saint- Antoine  booming  out 
eloquent  tocsin,  of  its  own  accord  ! — Friends,  no  :  ye  cannot 
put  off  the  Insurrection ;  but  must  put  it  on,  and  live  with 
it,  or  die  with  it. 

Swift  now,  therefore :  let  these  actual  Old  Municipals,  on 
sight  of  the  Full-powers,  and  mandate  of  the  Sovereign 
elective  People,  lay  down  their  functions ;  and  this  New 
Hundred  and  Forty-four  take  them  up !  Will  ye  nill  ye, 
worthy  Old  Municipals,  go  ye  must.  Nay  is  it  not  a  happi- 
ness for  many  a  Municipal  that  he  can  wash  his  hands  of 
such  a  business ;  and  sit  there  paralysed,  unaccountable,  till 
the  hour  do  bring  forth ;  or  even  go  home  to  his  night's 
rest  ? l  Two  only  of  the  Old,  or  at  most  three,  we  retain  : 
Mayor  Petion,  for  the  present  walking  in  the  Tuileries ; 
Procureur  Manuel ;  Procureur- Substitute  Danton,  invisible 
1  Section  Documents,  Townhall  Documents  (Hist.  Parl.  ubi  supra). 


AUG.  9,  1792]     THE  STEEPLES   AT  MIDNIGHT     291 

Atlas  of  the  whole.  And  so,  with  our  Hundred  and  Forty- 
four,  among  whom  are  a  Tocsin-Huguenin,  a  Billaud,  a 
Chaumette;  and  Editor-Talliens,  and  Fabre  d'Eglantines, 
Sergents,  Panises ;  and  in  brief,  either  emergent  or  else 
emerged  and  full-blown,  the  entire  Flower  of  unlimited 
Patriotism :  have  we  not,  as  by  magic,  made  a  New  Munici- 
pality ;  ready  to  act  in  the  unlimited  manner ;  and  declare 
itself  roundly,  *  in  a  state  of  Insurrection ! ' — First  of  all, 
then,  be  Commandant  Mandat  sent  for,  with  that  MayorV 
Order  of  his ;  also  let  the  New  Municipals  visit  those 
Squadrons  that  were  to  charge ;  and  let  the  stormbell  ring 
its  loudest; — and,  on  the  whole,  Forward,  ye  Hundred  and 
Forty-four ;  retreat  is  now  none  for  you ! 

Reader,  fancy  not,  in  thy  languid  way,  that  Insurrection  is 
easy.  Insurrection  is  difficult :  each  individual  uncertain  even 
of  his  next  neighbour ;  totally  uncertain  of  his  distant  neigh- 
bours, what  strength  is  with  him,  what  strength  is  against 
him ;  certain  only  that,  in  case  of  failure,  his  individual 
portion  is  the  gallows  !  Eight  hundred  thousand  heads,  and 
in  each  of  them  a  separate  estimate  of  these  uncertainties,  a 
separate  theorem  of  action  conformable  to  that :  out  of  so 
many  uncertainties,  does  the  certainty,  and  inevitable  net- 
result  never  to  be  abolished,  go  on,  at  all  moments,  bodying 
itself  forth ; — leading  thee  also  towards  civic  crowns  or  an 
ignominious  noose. 

Could  the  Reader  take  an  Asmodeus1  Flight,  and  waving 
open  all  roofs  and  privacies,  look  down  from  the  Tower  of 
Notre-Dame,  what  a  Paris  were  it !  Of  treble-voice  whimper- 
ings or  vehemence,  of  bass-voice  growlings,  dubitations ; 
Courage  screwing  itself  to  desperate  defiance;  Cowardice 
trembling  silent  within  barred  doors ;  —  and  all  round, 
Dulness  calmly  snoring;  for  much  Dulness,  flung  on  its 
mattresses,  always  sleeps.  O,  between  the  clangour  of  these 
high-storming  tocsins  and  that  snore  of  Dulness,  what  a 
gamut :  of  trepidation,  excitation,  desperation ;  and  above  it 
mere  Doubt,  Danger,  Atropos,  and  Nox  ! 


292  THE    MARSEILLESE     [BK.  vi.  CH.  vi. 

Fighters  of  this  Section  draw  out ;  hear  that  the  next 
Section  does  not ;  and  thereupon  draw  in.  Saint- Antoine, 
on  this  side  the  River,  is  uncertain  of  Saint-Marceau  on  that. 
Steady  only  is  the  snore  of  Dulness,  are  the  Six-hundred 
Marseillese  that  know  how  to  die.  Mandat,  twice  summoned 
to  the  Townhall,  has  not  come.  Scouts  fly  incessant,  in 
distracted  haste ;  and  the  many- whispering  voices  of  Rumour. 
Theroigne  and  unofficial  Patriots  flit,  dim-visible,  exploratory, 
far  and  wide ;  like  Night-birds  on  the  wing.  Of  Nationals 
some  Three- thousand  have  followed  Mandat  and  his  generate ; 
the  rest  follow  each  his  own  theorem  of  the  uncertainties : 
theorem,  that  one  should  march  rather  with  Saint- Antoine : 
innumerable  theorems,  that  in  such  a  case  the  wholesomest 
were  sleep.  And  so  the  drums  beat,  in  mad  fits,  and  the 
stormbells  peal.  Saint- Antoine  itself  does  but  draw  out  and 
draw  in :  Commandant  Santerre.,  over  there,  cannot  believe 
that  the  Marseillese  and  Saint-Marceau  will  march.  Thou 
laggard  sonorous  Beervat,  with  the  loud  voice  and  timber- 
head,  is  it  time  now  to  palter?  Alsatian  Westermann 
clutches  him  by  the  throat  with  drawn  sabre :  whereupon  the 
Timber-headed  believes.  In  this  manner  wanes  the  slow 
night ;  amid  fret,  uncertainty  and  tocsin ;  all  men's  humour 
rising  to  the  hysterical  pitch ;  and  nothing  done. 

However,  Mandat,  on  the  third  summons,  does  come ; — 
come,  unguarded ;  astonished  to  find  the  Municipality  new. 
They  question  him  straitly  on  that  Mayors-Order  to  resist 
force  by  force;  on  that  strategic  scheme  of  cutting  Saint- 
Antoine  in  two  halves  :  he  answers  what  he  can  :  they  think 
it  were  right  to  send  this  strategic  National  Commandant  to 
the  Abbaye  Prison,  and  let  a  Court  of  Law  decide  on  him. 
Alas,  a  Court  of  Law,  not  Book- Law  but  primeval  Club-Law, 
crowds  and  jostles  out  of  doors ;  all  fretted  to  the  hysterical 
pitch  ;  cruel  as  Fear,  blind  as  the  Night :  such  Court  of  Law, 
and  no  other,  clutches  poor  Mandat  .from  his  constables ; 
beats  him  down,  massacres  him,  on  the  steps  of  the  Townhall. 
Look  to  it,  ye  new  Municipals ;  ye  People,  in  a  state  of 


AUG.  io,  1792]    THE   STEEPLES   AT  MIDNIGHT    298 

Insurrection  !  Blood  is  shed,  blood  must  be  answered  for ; — 
alas,  in  such  hysterical  humour,  more  blood  will  flow  :  for  it 
is  as  with  the  Tiger  in  that ;  he  has  only  to  begin. 

Seventeen  Individuals  have  been  seized  in  the  Champs 
Elysees,  by  exploratory  Patriotism ;  they  flitting  dim-visible, 
by  it  flitting  dim-visible.  Ye  have  pistols,  rapiers,  ye  Seven- 
teen ?  One  of  those  accursed  '  false  Patrols ' ;  that  go 
marauding,  with  Anti-National  intent;  seeking  what  they 
can  spy,  what  they  can  spill !  The  Seventeen  are  carried  to 
the  nearest  Guardhouse;  eleven  of  them  escape  by  back 
passages.  '  How  is  this  ? '  Demoiselle  Theroigne  appears  at 
the  front  entrance,  with  sabre,  pistols,  and  a  train  ;  denounces 
treasonous  connivance ;  demands,  seizes,  the  remaining  six, 
that  the  justice  of  the  People  be  not  trifled  with.  Of  which 
six  two  more  escape  in  the  whirl  and  debate  of  the  Club-Law 
Court ;  the  last  unhappy  Four  are  massacred,  as  Mandat  was  : 
Two  Ex-Bodyguards ;  one  dissipated  Abbe' ;  one  Royalist 
Pamphleteer,  Sulleau,  known  to  us  by  name,  Able  Editor  and 
wit  of  all  work.  Poor  Sulleau :  his  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  and 
brisk  Placard-Journals  (for  he  was  an  able  man)  come  to  Finis, 
in  this  manner;  and  questionable  jesting  issues  suddenly  in 
horrid  earnest  !  Such  doings  usher-in  the  dawn  of  the  Tenth 
of  August  1792. 

Or  think  what  a  night  the  poor  National  Assembly  has 
had  :  sitting  there,  *  in  great  paucity ,'  attempting  to  debate ; 
— quivering  and  shivering ;  pointing  towards  all  the  thirty- 
two  azimuths  at  once,  as  the  magnet-needle  does  when  thunder- 
storm is  in  the  air  !  If  the  Insurrection  come  ?  If  it  come, 
and  fail  ?  Alas,  in  that  case,  may  not  black  Courtiers  with 
blunderbusses,  red  Swiss  with  bayonets  rush  over,  flushed  with 
victory,  and  ask  us  :  Thou  undefinable,  water-logged,  self- 
distractive,  self-destructive  Legislative,  what  dost  thou  here 
•unsunk  ? — Or  figure  the  poor  National  Guards,  bivouacking 
in  *  temporary  tents  "*  there ;  or  standing  ranked,  shifting  from 
leg  to  leg,  all  through  the  weary  night ;  New  tricolor  Muni- 
cipals ordering  one  thing,  old  Mandat  Captains  ordering 


294  THE    MARSEILLESE      [BK.  vi.  CH.  vi. 

another.  Procureur  Manuel  has  ordered  the  cannons  to  be 
withdrawn  from  the  Pont-Neuf;  none  ventured  to  disobey 
him.  It  seems  certain,  then,  the  old  Staff,  so  long  doomed, 
has  finally  been  dissolved,  in  these  hours ;  and  Mandat  is  not 
our  Commandant  now,  but  Santerre  ?  Yes,  friends  :  Santerre 
henceforth, — surely  Mandat  no  more !  The  Squadrons  that 
were  to  charge  see  nothing  certain,  except  that  they  are  cold, 
hungry,  worn  down  with  watching ;  that  it  were  sad  to  slay 
French  brothers ;  sadder  to  be  slain  by  them.  Without  the 
Tuileries  Circuit,  and  within  it,  sour  uncertain  humour  sways 
these  men :  only  the  red  Swiss  stand  steadfast.  Them  their 
officers  refresh  now  with  a  slight  wetting  of  brandy ;  wherein 
the  Nationals,  too  far  gone  for  brandy,  refuse  to  participate. 

King  Louis  meanwhile  had  laid  him  down  for  a  little  sleep; 
his  wig  when  he  reappeared  had  lost  the  powder  on  one  side.1 
Old  Marshal  Maille  and  the  gentlemen  in  black  rise  always  in 
spirits,  as  the  Insurrection  does  not  rise :  there  goes  a  witty 
saying  now,  *  Le  tocsin  ne  rend  pasj  The  tocsin,  like  a  dry 
milk-cow,  does  not  yield.  For  the  rest,  could  not  one  pro- 
claim Martial  Law  ?  Not  easily ;  for  now,  it  seems,  Mayor 
Petion  is  gone.  On  the  other  hand,  our  Interim  Command- 
ant, poor  Mandat  being  off  *  to  the  H6tel-de-Ville,'  complains 
that  so  many  Courtiers  in  black  encumber  the  service,  are  an 
eyesorrow  to  the  National  Guards.  To  which  her  Majesty 
answers  with  emphasis,  That  they  will  obey  all,  will  suffer  all, 
that  they  are  sure  men  these. 

And  so  the  yellow  lamplight  dies  out  hi  the  grey  of 
morning,  in  the  King's  Palace,  over  such  a  scene.  Scene  of 
jostling,  elbowing,  of  confusion,  and  indeed  conclusion,  for 
the  thing  is  about  to  end.  Rcederer  and  spectral  Ministers 
jostle  in  the  press  ;  consult,  in  side-cabinets,  with  one  or  with 
both  Majesties.  Sister  Elizabeth  takes  the  Queen  to  the 
window :  '  Sister,  see  what  a  beautiful  sunrise,'  right  over  the 
Jacobins  Church  and  that  quarter  !  How  happy  if  the  tocsin 
1  Roederer,  ubi  supri. 


AUG.  io,  1792]  THE    SWISS  295 

did  not  yield  !  But  Mandat  returns  not ;  Potion  is  gone : 
much  hangs  wavering  in  the  invisible  Balance.  About  five 
o'clock,  there  rises  from  the  Garden  a  kind  of  sound ;  as  of  a 
shout  which  had  become  a  howl,  and  instead  of  Vive  le  Roi  were 
ending  in  Vive  la  Nation.  '  Mem  Dieu ! '  ejaculates  a  spectral 
Minister, '  what  is  he  doing  down  there  ?'  For  it  is  his  Majesty, 
gone  down  with  old  Marshal  Maille  to  review  the  troops ;  and 
the  nearest  companies  of  them  answer  so.  Her  Majesty  bursts 
into  a  stream  of  tears.  Yet  on  stepping  from  the  cabinet, 
her  eyes  are  dry  and  calm,  her  look  is  even  cheerful.  *  The 
Austrian  lip,  and  the  aquiline  nose,  fuller  than  usual,  gave  to 
her  countenance,1  says  Peltier,1  *  something  of  majesty,  which 
they  that  did  not  see  her  in  these  moments  cannot  well  have 
an  idea  of.'  O  thou  Theresa's  Daughter ! 

King  Louis  enters,  much  blown  with  the  fatigue ;  but  for 
the  rest  with  his  old  air  of  indifference.  Of  all  hopes  now, 
surely  the  joyfulest  were,  that  the  tocsin  did  not  yield. 


CHAPTER    VII 

THE   SWISS 

UNHAPPY  Friends,  the  tocsin  does  yield,  has  yielded !  Lo 
ye,  how  with  the  first  sunrays  its  Ocean-tide,  of  pikes  and 
fusils,  flows  glittering  from  the  far  East ; — immeasurable ; 
born  of  the  Night !  They  march  there,  the  grim  host ; 
Saint- Antoine  on  this  side  the  River ;  Saint-Marceau  on  that, 
the  blackbrowed  Marseillese  in  the  van.  With  hum,  and 
grim  murmur,  far-heard ;  like  the  Ocean-tide,  as  we  say : 
drawn  up,  as  if  by  Luna  and  Influences,  from  the  great  Deep 
of  Waters,  they  roll  gleaming  on  ;  no  King,  Canute  or  Louis, 
can  bid  them  roll  back.  Wide-eddying  side-currents,  of  on- 
lookers, roll  hither  and  thither,  unarmed,  not  voiceless ;  they, 
the  steel  host,  roll  on.  New-Commandant  Santerre,  indeed, 

1  In  Toulongcon,  ii.  241. 


296  THE    MARSEILLESE    [BK.  VI.  CH.  vn. 

has  taken  seat  at  the  Townhall ;  rests  there,  in  his  halfway- 
house.  Alsatian  Westermann,  with  flashing  sabre,  does  not 
rest ;  nor  the  Sections,  nor  the  Marseillese,  nor  Demoiselle 
Theroigne ;  but  roll  continually  on. 

And  now,  where  are  Mandates  Squadrons  that  were  to 
charge  ?  Not  a  Squadron  of  them  stirs  :  or  they  stir  in  the 
wrong  direction,  out  of  the  way ;  their  officers  glad  that  they 
will  do  even  that.  It  is  to  this  hour  uncertain  whether  the 
Squadron  on  the  Pont-Neuf  made  the  shadow  of  resistance,  or 
did  not  make  the  shadow :  enough,  the  blackbrowed  Marseillese, 
and  Saint-Marceau  following  them,  do  cross  without  let ;  do 
cross,  in  sure  hope  now  of  Saint- Antoine  and  the  rest ;  do 
billow  on,  towards  the  Tuileries,  where  their  errand  is.  The 
Tuileries,  at  sound  of  them,  rustles  responsive :  the  red  Swiss 
look  to  their  priming ;  Courtiers  in  black  draw  their  blunder- 
busses, rapiers,  poniards,  some  have  even  fire-shovels ;  every 
man  his  weapon  of  war. 

Judge  if,  in  these  circumstances,  Syndic  Roederer  felt  easy ! 
Will  the  kind  Heavens  open  no  middle-course  of  refuge  for  a 
poor  Syndic  who  halts  between  two  ?  If  indeed  his  Majesty 
would  consent  to  go  over  to  the  Assembly  !  His  Majesty,  above 
all  her  Majesty,  cannot  agree  to  that.  Did  her  Majesty  answer 
the  proposal  with  a  *  Fi  done ,• '  did  she  say  even,  she  would 
be  nailed  to  the  walls  sooner  ?  Apparently  not.  It  is  written 
also  that  she  offered  the  King  a  pistol ;  saying,  Now  or  else 
never  was  the  time  to  show  himself.  Close  eye-witnesses  did 
not  see  it,  nor  do  we.  They  saw  only  that  she  was  queen-like, 
quiet;  that  she  argued  not,  upbraided  not,  with  the  Inexorable; 
but,  like  Caesar  in  the  Capitol,  wrapped  her  mantle,  as  it 
beseems  Queens  and  Sons  of  Adam  to  do.  But  thou,  O  Louis  ! 
of  what  stuff  art  thou  at  all  ?  Is  there  no  stroke  in  thee,  then, 
for  Life  and  Crown  ?  The  silliest  hunted  deer  dies  not  so. 
Art  thou  the  languidest  of  all  mortals  ;  or  the  mildest-minded  ? 
Thou  art  the  worst-starred. 

The  tide  advances ;  Syndic  Roederer's  and  all  men's  straits 
grow  straiter  and  straiter.  Fremescent  clangour  comes  from 


AUG.  10,  1792 1  T  H  E    S  W I S  S  297 

the  armed  Nationals  in  the  Court;  far  and  wide  is  the 
infinite  hubbub  of  tongues.  What  counsel  ?  And  the  tide 
is  now  nigh  !  Messengers,  forerunners  speak  hastily  through 
the  outer  Grates;  hold  parley  sitting  astride  the  walls. 
Syndic  Roederer  goes  out  and  comes  in.  Cannoneers  ask  him  : 
Are  we  to  fire  against  the  people  ?  King's  Ministers  ask  him  : 
Shall  the  King's  House  be  forced  ?  Syndic  Roederer  has  a 
hard  game  to  play.  He  speaks  to  the  Cannoneers  with 
eloquence,  with  fervour ;  such  fervour  as  a  man  can,  who  has 
to  blow  hot  and  cold  in  one  breath.  Hot  and  cold,  O 
Roederer  ?  We,  for  our  part,  cannot  live  and  die !  The 
Cannoneers,  by  way  of  answer,  fling  down  their  linstocks. — 
Think  of  this  answer,  O  King  Louis,  and  King's  Ministers ; 
and  take  a  poor  Syndic's  safe  middle-course,  towards  the  Salle 
de  Manege.  King  Louis  sits,  his  hands  leant  on  his  knees, 
body  bent  forward ;  gazes  for  a  space  fixedly  on  Syndic 
Roederer;  then  answers,  looking  over  his  shoulder  to  the 
Queen  .  Marchons !  They  march ;  King  Louis,  Queen,  Sister 
Elizabeth,  the  two  royal  children  and  governess :  these,  with 
Syndic  Roederer,  and  Officials  of  the  Department;  amid  a 
double  rank  of  National  Guards.  The  men  with  blunder- 
busses, the  steady  red  Swiss  gaze  mournfully,  reproachfully ; 
but  hear  only  these  words  from  Syndic  Roederer :  *  The  King 
is  going  to  the  Assembly ;  make  way.1  It  has  struck  eight, 
on  all  clocks,  some  minutes  ago :  the  King  has  left  the 
Tuileries — for  ever. 

O  ye  stanch  Swiss,  ye  gallant  gentlemen  in  black,  for  what 
a  cause  are  ye  to  spend  and  be  spent !  Look  out  from  the 
western  windows,  ye  may  see  King  Louis  placidly  hold  on 
his  way ;  the  poor  little  Prince  Royal  'sportfully  kicking  the 
fallen  leaves.'  Fremescent  multitude  on  the  Terrace  of  the 
Feuillants  whirls  parallel  to  him ;  one  man  in  it,  very  noisy, 
with  a  long  pole :  will  they  not  obstruct  the  outer  Staircase, 
and  back-entrance  of  the  Salle,  when  it  comes  to  that? 
King's  Guards  can  go  no  farther  than  the  bottom  step  there. 
Lo,  Deputation  of  Legislators  come  out;  he  of  the  long  pole  is 


298  THE    MARSEILLESE     [BK.  vi.  CH.  vii. 

stilled  by  oratory;  Assembly's  Guards  join  themselves  to  King's 
Guards,  and  all  may  mount  in  this  case  of  necessity  ;  the  outer 
Staircase  is  free,  or  passable.  See,  Royalty  ascends ;  a  blue 
Grenadier  lifts  the  poor  little  Prince  Royal  from  the  press ; 
Royalty  has  entered  in.  Royalty  has  vanished  for  ever  from 
your  eyes. — And  ye  ?  Left  standing  there,  amid  the  yawning 
abysses,  and  earthquake  of  Insurrection ;  without  course ; 
without  command :  if  ye  perish,  it  must  be  as  more  than 
martyrs,  as  martyrs  who  are  now  without  a  cause !  The 
black  Courtiers  disappear  mostly ;  through  such  issues  as  they 
can.  The  poor  Swiss  know  not  how  to  act :  one  duty  only 
is  clear  to  them,  that  of  standing  by  their  post ;  and  they 
will  perform  that. 

But  the  glittering  steel  tide  has  arrived;  it  beats  now 
against  the  Chateau  barriers  and  eastern  Courts ;  irresistible, 
loud-surging  far  and  wide ; — breaks  in,  fills  the  Court  of  the 
Carrousel,  blackbrowed  Marseillese  in  the  van.  King  Louis 
gone,  say  you  ;  over  to  the  Assembly  !  Well  and  good  :  but 
till  the  Assembly  pronounce  Forfeiture  of  him,  what  boots 
it  ?  Our  post  is  hi  that  Chateau  or  stronghold  of  his ;  there 
till  then  must  we  continue.  Think,  ye  stanch  Swiss,  whether 
it  were  good  that  grim  murder  began,  and  brothers  blasted 
one  another  in  pieces  for  a  stone  edifice  ? — Poor  Swiss  !  they 
know  not  how  to  act :  from  the  southern  windows,  some 
fling  cartridges,  in  sign  of  brotherhood;  on  the  eastern 
outer  staircase,  and  within  through  long  stairs  and  corridors, 
they  stand  firm-ranked,  peaceable  and  yet  refusing  to  stir. 
Westermann  speaks  to  them  hi  Alsatian  German  ;  Marseillese 
plead,  hi  hot  Provencal  speech  and  pantomime;  stunning 
hubbub  pleads  and  threatens,  infinite,  around.  The  Swiss 
stand  fast,  peaceable  and  yet  immovable ;  red  granite  pier  in 
that  waste-flashing  sea  of  steel. 

Who  can  help  the  inevitable  issue ;  Marseillese  and  all 
France  on  this  side ;  granite  Swiss  on  that  ?  The  pantomime 
grows  hotter  and  hotter;  Marseillese  sabres  flourishing  by 
way  of  action ;  the  Swiss  brow  also  clouding  itself,  the  Swiss 


AUG.  10,  1792]  THE    SWISS  f99 

thumb  bringing  its  firelock  to  the  cock.  And  hark  !  high 
thundering  above  all  the  din,  three  Marseillese  cannon  from 
the  Carrousel,  pointed  by  a  gunner  of  bad  aim,  come  rattling 
over  the  roofs  !  Ye  Swiss,  therefore  :  Fire !  The  Swiss  fire ;  by 
volley,  by  platoon,  in  rolling-fire  :  Marseillese  men  not  a  few, 
and  *  a  tall  man  that  was  louder  than  any,'  lie  silent,  smashed 
upon  the  pavement ; — not  a  few  Marseillese,  after  the  long 
dusty  march,  have  made  halt  here.  The  Carrousel  is  void ; 
the  black  tide  recoiling ;  *  fugitives  rushing  as  far  as  Saint- 
Antoine  before  they  stop."*  The  Cannoneers  without  linstock 
have  squatted  invisible,  and  left  their  cannon ;  which  the 
Swiss  seize. 

Think  what  a  volley :  reverberating  doomful  to  the  four 
corners  of  Paris,  and  through  all  hearts ;  like  the  clang  of 
Bellona's  thongs !  The  blackbrowed  Marseillese,  rallying  on 
the  instant,  have  become  black  Demons  that  know  how  to 
die.  Nor  is  Brest  behindhand ;  nor  Alsatian  Westermann ; 
Demoiselle  Theroigne  is  Sibyl  Theroigne :  Vengeance,  Victoire 
ou  la  mort !  From  all  Patriot  artillery,  great  and  small ; 
from  Feuillants  Terrace,  and  all  terraces  and  places  of  the 
wide-spread  Insurrectionary  sea,  there  roars  responsive  a  red 
blazing  whirlwind.  Blue  Nationals,  ranked  in  the  Garden, 
cannot  help  their  muskets  going  off,  against  Foreign  murderers. 
For  there  is  a  sympathy  in  muskets,  in  heaped  masses  of  men  : 
nay,  are  not  Mankind,  in  whole,  like  tuned  strings,  and  a 
cunning  infinite  concordance  and  unity ;  you  smite  one  string, 
and  all  strings  will  begin  sounding, — in  soft  sphere-melody, 
in  deafening  screech  of  madness !  Mounted  Gendarmerie 
gallop  distracted ;  are  fired  on  merely  as  a  thing  running ; 
galloping  over  the  Pont  Royal,  or  one  knows  not  whither. 
The  brain  of  Paris,  brain-fevered  in  the  centre  of  it  here,  has 
gone  mad ;  what  you  call,  taken  fire. 

Behold,  the  fire  slackens  not ;  nor  does  the  Swiss  rolling- 
fire  slacken  from  within.  Nay  they  clutched  cannon,  as  we 
saw ;  and  now,  from  the  other  side,  they  clutch  three  pieces 
more ;  alas,  cannon  without  linstock ;  nor  will  the  steel-and- 


300  THE    MARSEILLESE     [BK.  vi.  CH.  vii. 

flint  answer,  though  they  try  it.1  Had  it  chanced  to  answer  ! 
Patriot  onlookers  have  their  misgivings  ;  one  strangest  Patriot 
onlooker  thinks  that  the  Swiss,  had  they  a  commander,  would 
beat.  He  is  a  man  not  unqualified  to  judge ;  the  name  of 
him  Napoleon  Buonaparte.2  And  onlookers,  and  women, 
stand  gazing,  and  the  witty  Dr.  Moore  of  Glasgow  among 
them,  on  the  other  side  of  the  River :  cannon  rush  rumbling 
past  them ;  pause  on  the  Pont  Royal ;  belch  out  their  iron 
entrails  there,  against  the  Tuileries ;  and  at  every  new  belch, 
the  women  and  onlookers  '  shout  and  clap  hands.' 8  City  of 
all  the  Devils !  In  remote  streets,  men  are  drinking  break- 
fast-coffee ;  following  their  affairs  ;  with  a  start  now  and  then, 
as  some  dull  echo  reverberates  a  note  louder.  And  here  ? 
Marseillese  fall  wounded ;  but  Barbaroux  has  surgeons ; 
Barbaroux  is  close  by,  managing,  though  underhand  and  under 
cover.  Marseillese  fall  death-struck ;  bequeath  their  firelock, 
specify  in  which  pocket  are  the  cartridges ;  and  die  murmur- 
ing, '  Revenge  me,  Revenge  thy  country ! '  Brest  Federe 
Officers,  galloping  in  red  coats,  are  shot  as  Swiss.  Lo  you, 
the  Carrousel  has  burst  into  flame ! — Paris  Pandemonium  ! 
Nay  the  poor  City,  as  we  said,  is  in  fever-fit  and  convulsion  : 
such  crisis  has  lasted  for  the  space  of  some  half  hour. 

But  what  is  this  that,  with  Legislative  Insignia,  ventures 
through  the  hubbub  and  death-hail,  from  the  back-entrance  of 
the  Manege?  Towards  the  Tuileries  and  Swiss:  written  Order 
from  his  Majesty  to  cease  firing !  O  ye  hapless  Swiss,  why 
was  there  no  order  not  to  begin  it  ?  Gladly  would  the  Swiss 
cease  firing  :  but  who  will  bid  mad  Insurrection  cease  firing  ? 
To  Insurrection  you  cannot  speak ;  neither  can  it,  hydra- 
headed,  hear.  The  dead  and  dying,  by  the  hundred,  lie  all 
around;  are  borne  bleeding  through  the  streets,  towards  help; 
the  sight  of  them,  like  a  torch  of  the  Furies,  kindling  Mad- 
ness. Patriot  Paris  roars ;  as  the  bear  bereaved  of  her 

1  Deux  Amis,  viii.  179-88. 

8  See  Hist.  Part.  xvii.  56 ;  Las  Cases,  etc. 

.t  Journal  during  a  Residence  in  France  (Dublin,  I793)i  i-  2& 


AUG.  io,  1792]  THE    SWISS  301 

whelps.  On,  ye  Patriots  :  Vengeance  !  Victory  or  death  ! 
There  are  men  seen,  who  rush  on,  armed  only  with  walking- 
sticks.1  Terror  and  Fury  rule  the  hour. 

The  Swiss,  pressed  on  from  without,  paralysed  from  within, 
have  ceased  to  shoot ;  but  not  to  be  shot  What  shall  they 
do  ?  Desperate  is  the  moment.  Shelter  or  instant  death  : 
yet  How,  Where?  One  party  flies  out  by  the  Rue  de 
TEchelle ;  is  destroyed  utterly,  *  en  entier."1  A  second,  by  the 
other  side,  throws  itself  into  the  Garden ;  *  hurrying  across 
a  keen  fusillade'';  rushes  suppliant  into  the  National  Assembly; 
finds  pity  and  refuge  in  the  back  benches  there.  The  thud, 
and  largest,  darts  out  in  column,  three  hundred  strong, 
towards  the  Champs  Elysees :  *  Ah,  could  we  but  reach 
Courbevoye,  where  other  Swiss  are ! '  Wo !  see,  in  such 
fusillade  the  column  *  soon  breaks  itself  by  diversity  of 
opinion,'  into  distracted  segments,  this  way  and  that ; — to 
escape  in  holes,  to  die  fighting  from  street  to  street.  The 
firing  and  murdering  will  not  cease ;  not  yet  for  long.  The 
red  Porters  of  Hotels  are  shot  at,  be  they  Sulsse  by  nature, 
or  Sulsse  only  in  name.  The  very  Firemen,  who  pump  and 
labour  on  that  smoking  Carrousel,  are  shot  at :  why  should 
the  Carrousel  not  burn  ?  Some  Swiss  take  refuge  in  private 
houses ;  find  that  mercy  too  does  still  dwell  in  the  heart  of 
man.  The  brave  Marseillese  are  merciful,  late  so  wroth ;  and 
labour  to  save.  Journalist  Gorsas  pleads  hard  with  infuri- 
ated groups.  Clemence  the  Wine-merchant  stumbles  forward 
to  the  Bar  of  the  Assembly,  a  rescued  Swiss  in  his  hand ; 
tells  passionately  how  he  rescued  him  with  pain  and  peril, 
how  he  will  henceforth  support  him,  being  childless  himself; 
and  falls  a-swoon  round  the  poor  Swiss's  neck :  amid  plaudits. 
But  the  most  are  butchered,  and  even  mangled.  Fifty  (some 
say  Fourscore)  were  marched  as  prisoners,  by  National  Guards, 
to  the  H6tel-de-Ville  :  the  ferocious  people  bursts  through  on 
them,  in  the  Place-de-Greve ;  massacres  them  to  the  last  man. 

1  Hist.  Parl.  ubi  supri.      Rapport  du  Capitaine  da  Canomtitn,  Rapport  du 
Commandant,  etc  (Ibid.  xvii.  300-18). 


302  THE    MARSEILLESE    [BK.  vi.  CH.  vin. 

'  O  Peuple,  envy   of  the   universe ! '    Peuple,  in  mad   Gaelic 
effervescence  ! 

Surely  few  things  in  the  history  of  carnage  are  painfuler. 
What  ineffaceable  red  streak,  flickering  so  sad  in  the  memory, 
is  that,  of  this  poor  column  of  red  Swiss  '  breaking  itself  in 
the  confusion  of  opinions ' ;  dispersing,  into  blackness  and 
death  !  Honour  to  you,  brave  men  ;  honourable  pity,  through 
long  times !  Not  martyrs  were  ye ;  and  yet  almost  more. 
He  was  no  King  of  yours,  this  Louis ;  and  he  forsook  you 
like  a  King  of  shreds  and  patches :  ye  were  but  sold  to  him 
for  some  poor  sixpence  a-day ;  yet  would  ye  work  for  your 
wages,  keep  your  plighted  word.  The  work  now  was  to  die ; 
and  ye  did  it.  Honour  to  you,  O  Kinsmen  ;  and  may  the  old 
Deutsch  Biederkeit  and  Tayrferkeit,  and  Valour  which  is  Worth 
and  Truth,  be  they  Swiss,  be  they  Saxon,  fail  in  no  age ! 
Not  bastards ;  true-born  were  these  men :  sons  of  the  men  of 
Sempach,  of  Murten,  who  knelt,  but  not  to  thee,  O  Burgundy  ! 
— Let  the  traveller,  as  he  passes  through  Lucerne,  turn  aside 
to  look  a  little  at  their  monumental  Lion ;  not  for  Thorwald- 
sen's  sake  alone.  Hewn  out  of  living  rock,  the  Figure  rests 
there,  by  the  still  Lake-waters,  in  lullaby  of  distant-tinkling 
rance-des-vaches,  the  granite  Mountains  dumbly  keeping  watch 
all  round ;  and,  though  inanimate,  speaks. 


CHAPTER    VIII 
CONSTITUTION   BURST   IN   PIECES 

THUS  is  the  Tenth  of  August  won  and  lost.  Patriotism 
reckons  its  slain  by  the  thousand  on  thousand,  so  deadly  was 
the  Swiss  fire  from  these  windows  ;  but  will  finally  reduce 
them  to  some  Twelve-hundred.  No  child's-play  was  it ; — nor 
is  it !  Till  two  in  the  afternoon  the  massacring,  the  breaking 
and  the  burning  has  not  ended ;  nor  the  loose  Bedlam  shut 
itself  again. 


AUG.  io,  '92]    CONSTITUTION  BURST  IN  PIECES  803 

How  deluges  of  frantic  Sansculottism  roared  through  all 
passages  of  this  Tuileries,  ruthless  in  vengeance;  how  the 
Valets  were  butchered,  hewn  down ;  and  Dame  Campan  saw 
the  Marseillese  sabre  flash  over  her  head,  but  the  Black- 
browed  said,  *  Va-fen,  Get  thee  gone,'  and  flung  her  from 
him  unstruck ; J  how  in  the  cellars  wine-bottles  were  broken, 
wine-butts  were  staved-in  and  drunk ;  and,  upwards  to  the 
very  garrets,  all  windows  tumbled  out  their  precious  royal 
furnitures :  and,  with  gold  mirrors,  velvet  curtains,  down  of 
ript  feather-beds,  and  dead  bodies  of  men,  the  Tuileries  was 
like  no  Garden  of  the  Earth  : — all  this  let  him  who  has  a 
taste  for  it  see  amply  in  Mercier,  in  acrid  Montgaillard,  or 
Beaulieu  of  the  Deux  Amis.  A  hundred  and  eighty  bodies 
of  Swiss  lie  piled  there ;  naked,  unremoved  till  the  second  day. 
Patriotism  has  torn  their  red  coats  into  snips ;  and  marches 
with  them  at  the  Pike's  point :  the  ghastly  bare  corpses  lie 
there,  under  the  sun  and  under  the  stars ;  the  curious  of  both 
sexes  crowding  to  look.  Which  let  not  us  do.  Above  a 
hundred  carts,  heaped  with  Dead,  fare  towards  the  Cemetery 
of  Saint-Madeleine;  bewailed,  bewept;  for  all  had  kindred, 
all  had  mothers,  if  not  here,  then  there.  It  is  one  of  those 
Carnage-fields,  such  as  you  read  of  by  the  name  *  Glorious 
Victory,1  brought  home  in  this  case  to  one's  own  door. 

But  the  blackbrowed  Marseillese  have  struck  down  the 
tyrant  of  the  Chateau.  He  is  struck  down  ;  low,  and  hardly 
again  to  rise.  What  a  moment  for  an  august  Legislative  was 
that  when  the  Hereditary  Representative  entered,  under  such 
circumstances ;  and  the  Grenadier,  carrying  the  little  Prince 
Royal  out  of  the  press,  set  him  down  on  the  Assembly-table  ! 
A  moment, — which  one  had  to  smooth-off  with  oratory ; 
waiting  what  the  next  would  bring  !  Louis  said  few  words : 
'  He  was  come  hither  to  prevent  a  great  crime ;  he  believed 
himself  safer  nowhere  than  here.'  President  Vergniaud 
answered  briefly,  in  vague  oratory  as  we  say,  about  *  defence 

1  Campan,  ii.  c.  21. 


304  THE    MARSEILLESE    [BK.  vi.  CH.  vm. 

of  Constituted  Authorities,1  about  dying  at  our  post.1  And 
so  King  Louis  sat  him  down ;  first  here,  then  there ;  for  a 
difficulty  arose,  the  Constitution  not  permitting  us  to  debate 
while  the  King  is  present :  finally  he  settles  himself  with  his 
Family  in  the  *  Loge  of  the  LogograpkeJ  in  the  Reporter's- 
Box  of  a  Journalist ;  which  is  beyond  the  enchanted  Constitu- 
tional Circuit,  separated  from  it  by  a  rail.  To  such  Lodge 
of  the  Logographe^  measuring  some  ten  feet  square,  with  a 
small  closet  at  the  entrance  of  it  behind,  is  the  King  of  broad 
France  now  limited :  here  can  he  and  his  sit  pent,  under  the 
eyes  of  the  world,  or  retire  into  their  closet  at  intervals ;  for 
the  space  of  sixteen  hours.  Such  quite  peculiar  moment  has 
the  Legislative  lived  to  see. 

But  also  what  a  moment  was  that  other,  few  minutes  later, 
when  the  three  Marseillese  cannon  went  off,  and  the  Swiss  roll- 
ing-fire and  universal  thunder,  like  the  crack  of  Doom,  began 
to  rattle  !  Honourable  Members  start  to  their  feet ;  stray 
bullets  singing  epicedium  even  here,  shivering-in  with  window- 
glass  and  jingle.  *  No,  this  is  our  post ;  let  us  die  here ! ' 
They  sit  therefore,  like  stone  Legislators.  But  may  not  the 
Loge  of  the  Logographe  be  forced  from  behind  ?  Tear 
down  the  railing  that  divides  it  from  the  enchanted  Constitu- 
tional Circuit  !  Ushers  tear  and  tug ;  his  Majesty  himself 
aiding  from  within :  the  railing  gives  way ;  Majesty  and 
Legislative  are  united  in  place,  unknown  Destiny  hovering 
over  both. 

Rattle,  and  again  rattle,  went  the  thunder  ;  one  breathless 
wide-eyed  messenger  rushing  in  after  another :  King's  order  to 
the  Swiss  went  out.  It  was  a  fearful  thunder ;  but,  as  we 
know,  it  ended.  Breathless  messengers,  fugitive  Swiss,  denun- 
ciatory Patriots,  trepidation  ;  finally  tripudiation  ! — Before 
four  o'clock  much  has  come  and  gone. 

The  New  Municipals  have  come  and  gone ;  with  Three 
Flags,  Libert^  Egalite,  Patrie,  and  the  clang  of  vivats. 
Vergniaud,  he  who  as  President  few  hours  ago  talked  ot 
1  Mtniteur,  S6ance  du  IO  Aofit  1792. 


AUG.  13/92]  CONSTITUTION  BURST  IN  PIECES    305 

dying  for  Constituted  Authorities,  has  moved,  as  Committee- 
Reporter,  that  the  Hereditary  Representative  be  suspended ; 
that  a  NATIONAL  CONVENTION  do  forthwith  assemble  to  say 
what  further  !  An  able  Report ;  which  the  President  must 
have  had  ready  in  his  pocket  ?  A  President,  in  such  cases, 
must  have  much  ready,  and  yet  not  ready ;  and  Janus-like 
look  before  and  after. 

King  Louis  listens  to  all ;  retires  about  midnight  *  to  three 
little  rooms  on  the  upper  floor " ;  till  the  Luxembourg  be  pre- 
pared for  him,  and  '  the  safeguard  of  the  Nation/  Safer  if 
Brunswick  were  once  here  !  Or,  alas,  not  so  safe  ?  Ye  hap- 
less discrowned  heads  !  Crowds  came,  next  morning,  to  catch 
a  glimpse  of  them,  in  their  three  upper  rooms.  Montgaillard 
says  the  august  Captives  wore  an  air  of  cheerfulness,  even  of 
gaiety;  that  the  Queen  and  Princess  Lamballe,  who  had 
joined  her  overnight,  looked  out  of  the  opened  window, 
*  shook  powder  from  their  hair  on  the  people  below,  and 
laughed." l  He  is  an  acrid  distorted  man. 

For  the  rest,  one  may  guess  that  the  Legislative,  above  all 
that  the  New  Municipality  continues  busy.  Messengers, 
Municipal  or  Legislative,  and  swift  despatches  rush  off  to  all 
corners  of  France;  full  of  triumph,  blended  with  indignant 
wail,  for  Twelve-hundred  have  fallen.  France  sends  up  its 
blended  shout  responsive  ;  the  Tenth  of  August  shall  be  at 
the  Fourteenth  of  July,  only  bloodier  and  greater.  The 
Court  has  conspired  ?  Poor  Court :  the  Court  has  been 
vanquished ;  and  will  have  both  the  scath  to  bear  and  the 
scorn.  How  the  statues  of  Kings  do  now  all  fall  !  Bronze 
Henri  himself,  though  he  wore  a  cockade  once,  jingles  down 
from  the  Pont  Neuf,  where  Patrie  floats  in  Danger.  Much 
more  does  Louis  Fourteenth,  from  the  Place  Vendome,  jingle 
down ;  and  even  breaks  in  falling.  The  curious  can  remark, 
written  on  his  horse's  shoe  :  *  12  Aoiit  1 692 ' ;  a  Century  and 
a  Day. 

1  Montgaillard,  iL  135-167. 

VOL.  Q.  U 


306  THE    MARSEILLESE    [BK.  vi.  CH.  vm. 

The  tenth  of  August  was  Friday.  The  week  is  not  done, 
when  our  old  Patriot  Ministry  is  recalled,  what  of  it  can  be 
got :  strict  Roland,  Genevese  Claviere  ;  add  heavy  Monge  the 
Mathematician,  once  a  stone-hewer;  and,  for  Minister  of 
Justice, — Danton,  '  led  hither,'  as  himself  says,  hi  one  of  his 
gigantic  figures,  '  through  the  breach  of  Patriot  cannon  ! ' 
These,  under  Legislative  Committees,  must  rule  the  wreck 
as  they  can :  confusedly  enough ;  with  an  old  Legislative 
water-logged,  with  a  new  Municipality  so  brisk.  But 
National  Convention  will  get  itself  together ;  and  then  ! 
Without  delay,  however,  let  a  new  Jury-Court  and  Criminal 
Tribunal  be  set  up  in  Paris,  to  try  the  crimes  and  conspiracies 
of  the  Tenth.  High  Court  of  Orleans  is  distant,  slow :  the 
blood  of  the  Twelve-hundred  Patriots,  whatever  become  of 
other  blood,  shall  be  inquired  after.  Tremble,  ye  Criminals 
and  Conspirators ;  the  Minister  of  Justice  is  Danton  !  Robes- 
pierre too,  after  the  victory,  sits  in  the  New  Municipality ; 
insurrectionary  'improvised  Municipality,'  which  calls  itself 
Council  General  of  the  Commune. 

For  three  days  now,  Louis  and  his  Family  have  heard  the 
Legislative  Debates  in  the  Lodge  of  the  Logograpke ;  and 
retired  nightly  to  their  small  upper  rooms.  The  Luxembourg 
and  safeguard  of  the  Nation  could  not  be  got  ready .  nay,  it 
seems  the  Luxembourg  has  too  many  cellars  and  issues ;  no 
Municipality  can  undertake  to  watch  it.  The  compact  Prison 
of  the  Temple,  not  so  elegant  indeed,  were  much  safer.  To 
the  Temple,  therefore  !  On  Monday  13th  day  of  August 
1792,  in  Mayor  Petion's  carriage,  Louis  and  his  sad  suspended 
Household  fare  thither ;  all  Paris  out  to  look  at  them.  As 
they  pass  through  the  Place  Vendome,  Louis  Fourteenth's 
Statue  lies  broken  on  the  ground.  Petion  is  afraid  the 
Queen's  looks  may  be  thought  scornful,  and  produce  provoca- 
tion ;  she  casts  down  her  eyes,  and  does  not  look  at  all.  The 
'press  is  prodigious,'  but  quiet:  here  and  there,  it  shouts  Vive 
la  Nation ;  but  for  most  part  gazes  in  silence.  French 


AUG.  13/92]   CONSTITUTION  BURST  IN  PIECES   307 

Royalty  vanishes  within  the  gates  of  the  Temple  :  these  old 
peaked  Towers,  like  peaked  Extinguisher  or  Boruoir,  do  cover 
it  up ; — from  which  same  Towers,  poor  Jacques  Molay  and 
his  Templars  were  burnt  out,  by  French  Royalty,  five  centuries 
since.  Such  are  the  turns  of  Fate  below.  Foreign  Ambas- 
sadors, English  Lord  Gower  have  all  demanded  passports  ;  are 
driving  indignantly  towards  their  respective  homes. 

So,  then,  the  Constitution  is  over  ?  For  ever  and  a  day  ! 
Gone  is  that  wonder  of  the  Universe ;  First  biennial  Parlia- 
ment, water-logged,  waits  only  till  the  Convention  come ;  and 
will  then  sink  to  endless  depths.  One  can  guess  the  silent  rage 
of  Old-Constituents,  Constitution-builders,  extinct  Feuillants, 
men  who  thought  the  Constitution  would  march  !  Lafayette 
rises  to  the  altitude  of  the  situation;  at  the  head  of  his  Army. 
Legislative  Commissioners  are  posting  towards  him  and  it,  on 
the  Northern  Frontier,  to  congratulate  and  perorate ;  he 
orders  the  Municipality  of  Sedan  to  arrest  these  Commis- 
sioners, and  keep  them  strictly  in  ward  as  Rebels,  till  he  say 
further.  The  Sedan  Municipals  obey. 

The  Sedan  Municipals  obey ;  but  the  Soldiers  of  the 
Lafayette  Army  ?  The  Soldiers  of  the  Lafayette  Army  have, 
as  all  Soldiers  have,  a  kind  of  dim  feeling  that  they  themselves 
are  Sansculottes  in  buff  belts ;  that  the  victory  of  the  Tenth 
of  August  is  also  a  victory  for  them.  They  will  not  rise  and 
follow  Lafayette,  to  Paris;  they  will  rise  and  send  him  thither! 
On  the  1 8th,  which  is  but  next  Saturday,  Lafayette  with  some 
two  or  three  indignant  Staff-officers,  one  of  whom  is  Old-Con- 
stituent Alexandra  de  Lameth,  having  first  put  his  Lines  hi 
what  order  he  could, — rides  swiftly  over  the  marches  towards 
Holland.  Rides,  alas,  swiftly  into  the  claws  of  Austrians  ! 
He,  long  wavering,  trembling  on  the  verge  of  the  Horizon,  baa 
set,  in  Olmiitz  Dungeons ;  this  History  knows  him  no  more. 
Adieu,  thou  Hero  of  two  Worlds ;  thinnest,  but  compact 
honour-worthy  man  !  Through  long  rough  night  of  captivity, 
through  other  tumults,  triumphs  and  changes,  thou  wilt  swing 


308  THE    MARSEILLESE    [BK.  vi.  CH.  vm. 

well,  *  fast-anchored  to  the  Washington  Formula ' ;  and  be  the 
Hero  and  Perfect-character,  were  it  only  of  one  idea.  The 
Sedan  Municipals  repent  and  protest ;  the  Soldiers  shout  Vive 
la  Nation.  Dumouriez  Polymetis,  from  his  Camp  at  Maulde, 
sees  himself  made  Commander-in- Chief. 

And,  O  Brunswick  !  what  sort  of  '  military  execution1  will 
Paris  merit  now?  Forward,  ye  well-drilled  exterminatory 
men ;  with  your  artillery- wagons,  and  camp-kettles  jingling. 
Forward,  tall  chivalrous  King  of  Prussia ;  fanfaronading 
Emigrants  and  wargod  Broglie,  *  for  some  consolation  to 
mankind,1  which  verily  is  not  without  need  of  some. 


END  OF  VOL.   n. 


Edinburgh  :  Printed  by  T.  aud  A.  CONSTABLE. 


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